


Summers in Slavery

by chains_archivist



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, Boys in Chains, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Incest, M/M, Master/Slave, Slaves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 59,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4211634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by M<br/>: In an Alternative Universe Remy Lebeau is Patriarch of a country that allows slavery, both manual and pleasure. He kidnaps Scott Summers after accidentally taking his brother, Alex Summers, finding he wants the two as his personal pleasure slaves. This story is told from Scott's perspective after being kidnapped and deals with his training at the hand of his brother, and his eventual succumbing to Remy's will.<br/>Warnings: This story deals with incest, a very taboo subject. If you are uncomfortable in any way with this subject matter DO NOT read further. This story also involves Master/Slave, m/m, f/f, and bondage and has very explicit sex, some non-consensual, could even be considered rape. If you do not like or are uncomfortable with any or all of this subject matter DO NOT read any further. If you are UNDER AGE in your area do not read any further. I do not believe this is appropriate reading material for children of any age.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).  
> \--
> 
>  
> 
> This is pure fantasy. This would never or could never happen. I don't believe that any human should be forced to have sex or be a slave to another. And I don't agree with incest. In reality I find it repulsive. 
> 
> However this is an Alex/Scott/Remy slash, and I just like these characters. The fact that Alex and Scott are brothers having sex would never be appealing to me in the real world. In fantasy, hey, I just think they're two gorgeous guys. Since this takes place in an Alternative Universe, I could have chosen to not make them brothers, but there was a kind of funny quote I wanted to use. And of course I'm a sucker for angst and shock so what the heck. 
> 
> Feedback, negative and positive, is always welcomed. Just don't slam me. If you don't like this story because of the topics say so. But give a reason for your criticism. Give a reason for any criticism. It helps the writer tremendously. Thanks. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: These are Marvels. Has my good friend Patch says, "I just make them do nasty and erotic things together." Don't sue. I have more debt than I'm worth. You won't make any money.

This is so wrong. So very, very wrong. But as I kneel before my brother, Alex, enthusiasically sucking his cock into my mouth, my own member twitches in painful reminder of how good it all feels. And tastes. My tongue darts up and down the length underneath and over the oh so sensative flesh and then swirls around the rosy head, just as I've been trained. Just like Remy Lebeau likes it. Slowly, one inch at a time, I slurp it down. I've acquired quite a taste for cockflesh and cum. Of course a week with little water and Alex's seed as the only source of sustenance (chock full of protein, he reminds me often enough) will pretty much ensure a man acquire the taste fairly quickly. Even a man whose never taken another man's cock in his mouth before, let alone swallowed sperm. The first time I nearly vomited, and the second up until the tenth or eleventh time. By then I was able to keep it down without wretching. Of course I'd learned how to take his cock deep down into my throat without gagging, his balls banging gently against my chin. And so I never had to really taste the stuff.   
  
But today is a little different. Today I'm actually enjoying it. I'm not exactly certain why at first, but as I eagerly lick the pre-cum all along his shaft and then swallow Alex's member with a tiny whimper, I see my Master out of the corner of my eye and it suddenly hits me why I'm so willing right now. Remy Lebeau's charm power. He's letting it wash over me. There's the familiar warmth and the drowsiness I feel throughout my body, a sweet numbness of the mind that makes me consider things I never would have done before, like suck my brother off. I've felt it before when Remy lived at the mansion. Especially when he was drunk, or just outrageously flirting with me. I was able to resist it for the most part, and he never once sought to coerce me with it there, in my own home. Too many people might have found out. They would have killed him. Or at least thrown him out. And I believed for the most part that he flirted with me just to shock me, make me blush. But now, as he told me a week ago, he owns me. He's in control. And free to do with me whatever he desires. And what he desires tonight is to take my virginity.   
  
I've no doubt he knows I've never been with a man. Never had a cock deep inside my body. He's never even asked. Remy just assumed. And it's a correct assumption on his part. I was...I am a heterosexual in the purist sense. I've never wanted another man. Never found another man sexually attractive. My wife Jean is all I ever thought I'd really need. But he, he and Alex, are quickly breaking me down. Their making me want this, and I can't quite hate them for it.   
  
It all started a week ago. Alex had gone missing again. I hadn't heard from him in several months, but the sad fact was I kind of took it for granted that he'd show up again. Just pop in one day. "Hi, bro. Was dead for awhile, but I'm better now. Want to go get lunch?" It's happened so often I don't even blink when someone tells me he's disappeared. It's not that I don't look for him-I do-it's just that I don't look as hard as I should anymore. It's this terrible sense I've come to know as the Everything-will-turn-out-alright-in-the-end attitude. X-men die, they get better, they die again syndrome. Especially anyone related to the Summer's clan. But I should have know something was up when Pietro called from Genosha to say that Lorna had gone missing too. Ah well, hindsight's 20/20.   
  
As I was saying though, it all started a week ago late at night while I was lying in bed with my wife fast asleep. Without warning two men attacked me. They're called retrieval units and they strike us 'earthers' as they call us without warning. Pop through a portal from this dimension, grab a future slave and pop back. No fuss, no muss. I barely saw my wife stir next to me, on her face a look of fuzzy shock, and then I was knocked into a daze by the jaunt. Next thing I know I'm being grabbed by two more men and the cold steel of an inhibitor collar is being snapped around my neck. I fought them all, but I was weak from the jump and still muddled from sleep. They had me on my knees in no time with my arms forced around and locked securely behind me. Then one of the four took some kind of laser device and cut away the briefs I'd been sleeping in, leaving me shocked and naked and wretching wildly. Another man grabbed the sleep goggles roughly off my head. Instinctively I shut my eyes, not wanting to punch a hole through the nearest wall, or a captor for that matter. I wish now that I could have. I might have stood a chance.   
  
When I first heard the seductively familiar voice, I shivered. "S'okay, cher. You 'ave an inhibitor collar on. You can open your eyes now."   
  
I hesitated and one of the men hit me in the back of the head. "You heard him! Open your eyes!"  
  
Then I heard something I'd never thought I'd ever hear. The voice of Remy Lebeau in full fury. I don't think I ever heard him that angry. Most of the time he'd had a very charming, wily laid-back attitude which of course infuriated me whenever I was around him. I felt him pass me as a piece of his clothing whipped against my exposed chest. My eyes remained closed but I could hear the crack of the man's jaw as Remy yelled, "NEVER hit him again! Ever! Or any of dos I've chosen for my private collection! You do and your life is forfeit, comprenez-vous?!"   
  
A chill ran through me as I heard the words "private collection" and the implications ran wild through my brain as a soft hand ran down my back in a loving caress. "Dey are a work of art and I won't have dem harmed or marred or even scratched." I shuddered again. Remy Lebeau was a thief. And I understood right away that I was a collection piece, like one of the pictures that had hung in his room in the mansion. No one ever had proof those paintings were stolen, but we all had our suspicions. When he vanished all those years ago, we'd kept his room open for him for a long time. He was another X-men we expected to see again. But as the years went by we eventually needed the space and Storm had insisted on taking the paintings to her loft. She always swore they weren't stolen. She always believed in him. I wonder what she'd think of him now.   
  
However, in this situation, I would be much more than just a painting or statue. I'd have much more of a purpose here. I'd be a favorite pet of his. Warm his bed and service him whenever and wherever he desired.   
  
"Scott, open your eyes, ces vous plait." His warm breath swam over my ears and in that instant I couldn't refuse him anything. I opened my eyes to a colorful, albiet decadent, world. A world sans the rosy tint of my ruby quartz visor. And came face to face with Alex.   
  
He was on his knees in front of me, his head bowed. Naked except for an inhibitor collar similiar to mine and a fiendish little device anchored around the base of his cock. A device I've come to loath. It managed to keep his penis fully erect and my own spasmed in sympathy. I was sure it was painful. My suspicions were well founded. I wear that device now as I lick and suck Alex, my hips rocking slightly in a lewd manner to my arousal. It's a technology developed on this world that allows a man to stay hard for as long as it's fastened securely around the base of the penis. I'm not certain how it works. It doesn't constrict the circulation like an ordinary cock ring, so there's no concern that the member will lose blood and necrose. And there is a mild electrical buzz felt when it's worn, not necessarily unpleasant. But the penis is kept firmly under control. A man is unable to ejaculate while wearing the instrument and therefore unable to find release from the painful swelling. A few hours with this apparatus in place can make most men scream for mercy. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on one's idea of courage, I'm not most men. I've reached my threshold for pain many times and have been able to go beyond it. A vigorous workout in the Danger Room could bring most men screaming to their knees.   
  
But as I was saying, there was Alex, kneeling in front of me, refusing to meet my gaze. He kept his head bowed and said nothing. Although, as I look back on this event, I realize now that he had probably been commanded not to speak or look at me. Afraid for him, and perhaps a little for myself, I whispered his name. He still wouldn't look up. Well trained. You say nothing when you're given a command. You do exactly what you are told. He hardly needed to be punished by this time. Just controlled. Which is why the device was being used on him at the time. One of the reasons for this technology is to modify a male slave's behavior. Once fully trained, he can keep himself hard under his own will, until his master gives him permission to ejaculate.   
  
As I whispered his name in sympathy and fear I could see the slight tensing of his arms and hands. I knew he would have liked to have curled his fingers into fists, but that is not the proper way for a slave to behave in front of his master. He must show his love an devotion at all times through a submissive and relaxed posture.   
  
Remy ran his hand along my spine once again, causing my head to jerk up and around. "What is this, Gambit?" I asked with barely repressed fury despite the charm power at work.. "Why do you hold my brother captive? Why am I here?"   
  
He chuckled and made a 'tut tut' noise. Then he rose in that infuriatingly enticing manner he had and moved to stand next to Alex. His hand reached down to casually, yet affectionately stroke the top of my brother's head, as if to pet the family dog. I had to bite my own cheek to keep from moaning at the erotic picture it made. Emotions were at war within me. I was raging against this violation, and yet his power held some sway over me. I had never seen that charm power so strong before. So compelling.   
  
"Scott, mon cher, I'll forgive your outburst today. You 'aven't been trained yet, so you don't know how to speak to your master properly. But any time after today and such an outburst will not go unpunished." His red eyes glowed as they watched mine. "I own your brother." He continued. "And now I own you." Simple and direct. Remy wasn't about to explain everything to me. Many of the answers I'd have to come up with on my own. Like the fact that Remy was the ruler of this country I now found myself in. His word was law and the people seemed to love him for it. Which could have been easily dismissed as the effect of his charm. But I soon found out that under his rule, the economy was thriving, the country was at peace for the first time in 100 years, and most of the 'free' citizens were happy living here. And slavery was allowed. Most of the slaves were used for manual labor. Only the wealthy kept pleasure slaves. Remy had a large 'collection', as he called it. Mostly male. But Alex and I would soon become his favorites.   
  
I watched him warily, wanting to scream at him for what he'd said. I wasn't a slave. He didn't own me. But the collar around my neck and the locks on my arms spoke otherwise. I was at his mercy right then and would have to bide my time until I found some way to freedom. I swallowed in a dry throat and glanced at Alex. Remy smiled, almost cheerfully as he continued to stroke his 'pet'. Then he spoke in an grating pleasant voice. "You don' 'ave to know why or how. You just have to understand de truth of the matter." He paused for a moment and looked down at Alex. To me he said, "You'll understand dat truth by de end of the week. You'll understand how well I own you, cher." With a shrug he finished, "And you'll come to love it too.  
  
Then Remy added as an afterthought, "Jus' like your brother here, hien." As he looked at Alex his hand reached down to cup his chin and lift it so Alex could gaze into his eyes. "Show him, mon couer." He said, so low I had to strain to hear. "Show Scott how much you love and obey me, non?" He turned his hips so that I could get the full view of what Alex was about to do.   
  
Reaching up with one hand, Alex pulled Remy's cock from beneath the silken rob he wore and kissed it almost reverently, his lips pressed along the middle of the shaft. Suddenly everything slowed down for me as I watched in horror and repulsion Alex's submission. This act I would come to know as a sign of ownership between pleasure slaves and their master. When a slave was told to show his (or her) love of his master he would take the cock and kiss it lovingly as Alex was doing now. Women were forbidden to own pleasure slaves except through a special privilege given by the ruler or the council. So this was considered the universal sign of submission.   
  
I continued to watch, unable to turn away as Alex then placed the head of Remy's penis between his lips and dropped his hands to his sides. His cheeks hollowed as Remy began to thrust forward in one even motion until all of the shaft had disappeared into Alex's warm mouth. The nose of my brother was pressed hard into Remy's pubic hair, but I could see his nostrils flair as he concentrated on filling his lungs. And yet his eyes appeared to glaze over in what could only be described as bliss and I looked on in shock, disgust, and arousal.   
  
Within seconds Remy had his hands around the back of Alex's head and was thrusting faster and faster into his mouth. I could almost imagine Alex's tongue working quickly, lapping at the underside of the flesh, keeping time to Remy's furious pace. The Cajun's hands controlled Alex's head and face, holding him right where he wanted him, and in a few moments I heard the soft mix of French and English curses as he reached his climax. Pulling Alex all the way to his stomach, he shot his seed deep down his throat. Fascinated, I watched my brother's Adam's apple bob up and down as he drank in the thick warm fluid in lusty abandon. And with a flush I felt my own prick grow in response. I tried to turn away in disgust, but the compulsion to watch was too great. Remy's power kept me faced forward, eyes open, highly aware of every stroke, every lap of my brother's tongue. Desperately I wanted to break the bonds on my arms and touch myself. My hips involuntarily lurched upward and I bit back a moan of arousal. And I couldn't be sure it came from the charm or my own lust-filled mind.   
  
Gratefully, Remy didn't notice as he caressed Alex's cheek possessively. "Every drop, mon cher." He rasped gently, eyes hooded with the afterglow of an orgasm.   
  
After Alex had licked him clean, Remy pulled him to his feet and kissed him tenderly. I was now completely and painfully erect. If someone had touched me at that moment I would have spewed my cum over the floor then and there. But Remy was busy lapping at Alex's mouth, teasing him with his tongue. Soon that tongue vanished into Alex and he began to suck on it in much the same way he'd blown Lebeau's prick. After a moment Remy pulled back from Alex holding my brother's arms by his side and looked with pride on his well-trained slave.   
  
"Makes my heart swell, cher. You've learned well. Hope you can train your brot'er to do it dat good." Alex smiled and flushed at the praise. My eyes went wide when I heard this. Alex would be my trainer. I shook my head. "No." I breathed. Both men looked my way, but said nothing. In shame I saw Alex staring at my erection with a slight smirk, and I looked away.   
  
"You done good, Alex. I want you to release yourself now." Curious, I looked back up at the two. My brother glanced my way for a second and I was certain I saw my own shame reflected in that look, with a slight blush of anger. He didn't want me to see this. But then his Master was reaching down to release the device on his cock. I heard a faint click as it came unlocked and Alex moaned in relief and pleasure. Holding the ring in his left hand, Remy began to stroke Alex's hard member with his right. He fisted it once, then twice, then place his cupped hand under the head as Alex, eyes closed and head thrown back, quickly spasmed and came, squirting all his cum into Remy's hand with a cry of such ecstasy I shuddered.   
  
Right after Remy leaned toward Alex and whispered something in his ear. My brother immediately sank to his knees and put his head back opening his mouth. Remy's right hand, still full of the product of Alex's release, tipped it over the open mouth dribbling the fluid down over his fingers. Such submission from my brother sent a spike of fear down into my stomach. But still I couldn't turn away. The creamy lifegiving substance dripped quickly into Alex's mouth and he lapped at it eagerly. When most of it had rolled over his tongue and down his throat, Alex reached up to kiss Remy's fingers, sucking each digit into his mouth one at a time until he had cleaned them thorougly. Then with long erotic strokes he licked the hand clean. When he'd finished his chore, he once again took Remy's cock in his hand and kissed it lovingly, as if in gratitude for the release and the quenching of his thirst.   
  
"Bien." Remy said patting his head affectionately. "Now stay der quietly while I talk to your brot'er." Alex sat back on his heels, arms loose at his side, and bowed his head in acquiescence.   
  
Remy's approach was casual, yet commanding and seductive. With an easy agility he twirled the instrument that had bound my brother's cock around his finger. When he stood in front of me I was trembling and kept my head down. Whether in anger or fear, I wasn't quite sure. Like a magician he suddenly produced my sleep goggles in front of my eyes and I looked up at him. His smile was benevolent as if to say "Submit, and all will go well." I could almost believe it. But I knew it was a lie. The very fact that he insisted on ownership told me the truth behind the lie. And his actions spoke volumes. He would never permanently mar us. Probably wouldn't physically harm us. His charm power could easily subdue our will. And we were too precious to him to damage. He was too obsessed. In some perverse way, I think he loved us, me and my brother. And his looked told me he would love watching us together.   
  
"Not gonna need these anymore, hein." He told me. "Dat collar's never gonna come off." He chuckled. "Can't 'ave you blowing the place apart, eh?" The goggles fell from his finger and clattered to the floor. Then he placed his hand against my cheek tenderly and let the warmth of his empathic ability wash over me. My eyes closed and I leaned into the touch, seeking his love. Still radiating all his charm, Remy raised me to my feet. I shook almost violently as a hand came down to clasp my erection.   
  
"For me, eh?" Smirking he stroked it gently. I almost lost it. I wish I had, because suddenly the ring that had tormented my brother was snapped in place around me. I hissed and bucked at the sensation. But Remy pulled me to himself, placing a hand on either cheek to steady my hips. My prick throbbed in agony trapped between my stomach and his.   
  
"Shhh..." He cooed into my ear, nipping at the lobe sharply. "S'okay. I know it hurts. But it won' damage you. I could never let dat happen, cher. Just listen to your brot'er. Do what he tells you and dis..."He touched the ring and I gasped, "won' be on long." His hands kneaded the cheeks of my buttocks gently and a finger ran down the length of my crack, causing me to buck furiously again into Remy, terrified, aroused, and disoriented.   
  
"Remy." I breathed through gritted teeth. "How can you do this?"   
  
He said nothing at first. Kissing my cheek, then my eyes and nose, his tongue darted out across my lips and I opened them without thinking. His tongue slipped into mine and he kissed me with a bruising force, passion enflaming me, pain engulfing me and centering around my throbbing member still pressed against this man, my master. I wanted him then. I couldn't deny it, not even to myself. And I was in a rage against this madness he'd dragged me into.   
  
Then as he had done with my brother, Remy pulled back and held my arms in his hands. "How could I not?" One hand flew out toward Alex. "Why settle for one Summers when I can 'ave de matching set?" His eyes twinkled in amusement. And there it was. We were a center piece, our beauty to be put on display for all to see and for him to enjoy. I began to tremble again and swallowed hard, not wanting to show him my fear. But he winked at me good naturedly (Remy had always been at his most cheerful after sex or a successful gambit) and said, "You can't eat just one, non?"   
  
I groaned inwardly at his lewd joke. He gave a chuckle. "Well, mon couers, I have state matters to attend to." He looked over at Alex and motioned him to stand. "I'll be gone a week, Alex. I want your brother broken in by de time I return. Use what I taught you. But no harm is to come to him. I don't want him whipped or bruised. And his backside is for me, d'ccord? You leave his cherry for me." Alex nodded. "I want him pliable in my bed on our first night. Don't disappoint me, pet."   
  
Then he was gone in a swish of fine silk and grand gesture, and I was alone with my brother and three guards. My prick twitched and throbbed painfully, and a flush covered my body along with a fine sheen of sweat. The warmth was gone, and all that was left was pain and fury.   
  
  
  
"Alex." I said, my voice rising in volume as I seethed. "Snap out of this! This is crazy! For God's sake, Alex, you can't go through with what he's asking! It's...it's vile!"   
  
Alex looked at me and for a moment a flicker of shame passed across his face. I thought I had him. But then it was gone with a shake of his head.   
  
"I'm sorry Scott. But what Remy wants, he gets. I can't fight him anymore. Believe me I've tried. And there's no where far enough to run that he won't find you. You weren't even safe in the mansion."   
  
His eyes grew cold in resignation and he looked over at the guards. "Take him to the play room and put him in the stocks. I'll be there shortly." Then he turned on his heel and strode away.   
  
"Alex!" I screamed at him as the guards took hold of my arms and began dragging me in the opposite direction. "Alex! You can't do this! You can't want this!" How wrong I was. A well-trained slave can do anything his master orders. Even to his own brother.   
  
I was still too weak from the jaunt, and even my anger didn't strengthen me as I fought futilely against the three guards. They dragged me kicking and jerking against them down the hall to the 'play room'. When they'd pulled me past the threshold and I had a chance to look around I stopped struggling. The room was a cornucopia of sexual toys and accoutrements. Nothing was outwardly hostile. I learned early on that Remy, thankfully, wasn't into torture pain at least. And he didn't used physical pain for it's own sake. There had to be a reason for the agony, like the little device wrapped around my cock. He never used pain to break a man. There were other subtle ways of doing that, much to my horror. And then there was his charm power if he so chose to use it. But I suspect he liked the challenge of not using it. Of having a man broken and compliant through demonstration of all the pleasure he could give and receive and all the hopelessness of never being able to find a place to hide, once his mutagenic signature had been recorded. And I found out soon enough that he used mental torture and manipulation when none of his other tricks worked. But he was sincere in protecting the beauty of an object he owned, including his slaves.   
  
The fact that there were no whips, no instruments of torture that I could see, did nothing to ease my fear. I had no idea how Alex planned to make me compliant, and I sure as hell didn't want to find out. I looked quickly around the room searching for a weapon of any kind as the retrieval units pulled me to the 'stocks'. The room was large with very high ceilings, and yet there was a sense of confinement. Along one wall hung iron rings of different sizes and heights to secure a slave. In another corner there was a large four poster bed with more hooks and rings placed in various locations. I saw a chain dangling from the head board. Several chests and tables lined a third wall. On the tables were many different sizes of dildos and vibrators, cock rings, bite blocks, horse tails and butt plugs. A vast assortment of lubes and gels. And a wide array of instruments I couldn't put names to. Again, nothing overtly dangerous. A sling hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room, similiar to a hammock, but with leather straps to hold a man's arms and legs in place. There was a T-shaped table to stretch a man's arms out at his side. Ankle cuffs were underneath at the end to hold a man bent over with his legs spread. And then I looked behind me and saw where Alex intended to bind me. It was an old fashioned stocks. A wooden plank cut in half with holes for both arms and the head. But instead of coming all the way to the ground for a man to kneel behind, it was anchored on two poles cemented into the floor and stood over two thick platforms that spread out in a V shape.   
  
One of the guards let go of me when he realized I had stopped fighting and went over to the stocks to open the upper portion. The other two dragged me underneath it and unlocked my arms. That's when I made my move. I pulled one arm forcefully away from one of the guards and then swung it up as hard as I could into his groin. He yelped and clutched at the injury. Before the other two could act I slipped back underneath the stocks and ran to the tables. Amazingly I noticed the one dangerous item I'd missed before. A metal pole about nine inches long. I clutched it tightly in my hand as the men advanced warily. I was prepared to kill if I had to.   
  
But suddenly the world tilted and a horrible wave of dizziness and nausea went through me. I dropped the weapon and fell to my knees. And then Alex was standing over me holding a small black control box and frowning.   
  
"Sorry, Scotty. The collar is tuned to your mutagenic signature. It disrupts the neuropathways along your spine. The sensation you're feeling won't last long and it won't cause any permanent damage, but it'll keep you from fighting while we strap you in."   
  
"Alex." I pleaded, barely able to whisper the words. "P-please don't do this."   
  
He shook his head sadly. "Sorry bro. I don't have a choice." Then he gestured to the guards and once again they dragged my now limp body over to the stocks. My head and arms were forced into the tight semi-circles and the top portion was secured above me and padlocked on the side. Two of the guards grabbed a leg and pulled them both roughly underneath the stocks so that I was sitting on my ass. I made a weak attempt to kick, but only succeeded in aiding their efforts. Not too gently my legs were straightened along the planks and spread shoulder length apart. Then they tightened leather straps across my thighs just above the knees and around the ankles. I could barely shift my rump. The ring at the base of my cock forced it up at a 45 degree angle. It continued to throb furiously and I had to slow my breathing, concentrating with all I had to relax and meditate trying to dull the pain.   
  
Alex would have none of it. He touched my erection with feather strokes and I nearly exploded. Tears ran down my face. I couldn't help it anymore. And the worst of it was when I looked up at him, he was smiling warmly, lovingly, like the brother I had known. I groaned audibly and said, "No. I don't want this."   
  
"You will." Alex responded encouragingly and reached over to stroke my face. I jerked back at his touch and knocked my head hard against the wooden plank, seeing stars. His hand kept coming until it met my cheek. "You're my brother, Scott and I love you. This doesn't have to go like this. All you have to do is what I tell you and I'll let you release yourself." His fingers ran down long my jawline, while the first digit of his other hand circled the head of my swollen member. I nearly screamed.   
  
"Fuck you!" I cursed at him. "I'll never do what you want!"   
  
"Yes." His voice was low, resigned. "You will." Then he laughed almost wickedly. "Us Summers. Stubborn to a fault." His hands came away from my body and he stood up. I couldn't raise my head very far, so I raised my eyes to glare at him. "You know," he continued in same sad tone, "It took Remy a month to break me. I think it was a month. I'm not quite sure. You can't tell time in this place and I'm not allowed to wear anything except this collar and the occasional ornamentation." I wondered what he meant by that, but then I remembered the cock rings. "I can't tell you what it took to make me this obediant. Remy ordered me not to. He told me he was going to go after you. I tried to talk him out of it, I swear. I never wanted to bring you into this. But he had his mind made up. And whatever he wants he usually gets. He didn't tell me I'd have to train you, though. I'm not happy about this. But I can't fight him. No one can. That damn ability he has to charm people." His voice had choked on the last sentence and he looked away from me for a moment.   
  
When he looked back his eyes sparkled with unshed tears and he said, "I tried to kill him once. I got hold of a knife. I got as close to his bed as I could while he was sleeping, but when I went to raise the knife his damn power took hold of me and I dropped my weapon." He shook his head in denial. "He must have heard the clatter or maybe he'd never been asleep. His eyes opened and looked up at me standing over him. And he smiled." Alex pounded a fist into his other hand. "HE SMILED! As if he knew what I was going to do. Then he bent down over the bed and picked up the knife. I couldn't move. Until..." Alex paused swallowing hard. "Until he handed it back to me." He continued as a single tear ran down his cheek. "He put it in my hand and raised it to his throat and said, "Go on, cher. If it means dat much to you." My hand began to shake so bad I actually nicked him. Then I threw the knife across the room and crawled into his arms. He held me while I cried like a baby begging his forgiveness. He stroked my hair, soothing me, telling me it was okay, that he understood, but he couldn't let it go unpunished. And then he made the sweetest, most tender love to me that night. That's when I gave in. That's when I knew I couldn't fight him anymore."   
  
My eyes must have betrayed the pity and revulsion I felt, because Alex paused and looked at me, his eyes becoming steel, pulling back the emotions, the sadness for me and and the regret at what he had to do. "He'll find your limit. You'll be eating out of his hand by the end of the week. You might as well give in now. It'll go a whole lot easier."   
  
"NO!" I shouted, as the coldness of his eyes pierced me and brought my anger blazing back up to the surface. "I'm not you! He'll never do to me what he did to you! You're just..." I met his eyes and faultered, knowing that what I read in those eyes spoke truth. Remy would win in the end. I knew it because I had felt that kiss. That first kiss of his. I could have drowned in that kiss. It had overwhelmed me. It had nearly driven the pain from my groin out of my thoughts. But I couldn't admit it to myself. Not then. Not for a long, long while.   
  
"No." I stated firmly. "Do what you have to do, but I won't be a willing partner to this depravity."   
  
He closed his eyes, looking so, so tired. "Very well." When he opened his eyes again he seemed different, almost cruel, as if he were stealing himself for what he had to do. He turned to the guards.   
  
"Send them in." My brother ordered. I looked up as the units escorted two young naked male slaves to my side. One carried a basin of floral scented water. The other carried soap, washclothes, and towels. They stood hesitantly looking at me, looking at Alex, then at each other. I stared at them in confusion until Alex said, "Wash him thoroughly. I'll be back shortly." Then my brother was gone.   
  
The two set to work. Slow and erotic they soaped my body with the scented water, running the washclothes sensuously down my chest and back, then up along my thighs. They were very thorough. One even washed my hair, running his fingers through it, scrubbing in a way that made my scalp tingle with delight. And I melted under their touch. Every nerve in my body was on fire. The throbbing in my groin grew more intense. And I saw stars when one of the men began to scrub it lightly with a washcloth. He took his time and I was in near agony. But the pain melded into the pleasure of their touch until I was writhing, thrusting my hips up and breathing fast and heavy. I couldn't shift enough to move in pleasure. I couldn't thrust high enough. And I couldn't ejaculate. God, how I wanted to cum. It was agonizing and oh so wonderful.   
  
Finally, sadly I felt, they finished by drying me completely and stood up. And my cock continued to throb without release. I noticed at this point that the guards had left. The slaves positioned themselves on either side of me, kneeling in submission, with their heads bowed. They said nothing. I tried to reason with them. Then I begged them to take off the ring. They ignored my pleas. After a long while Alex returned. He stood between my legs and offered his cock to me.   
  
"Take it, Scott. Let me show you how to suck a man. Then I'll take off the ring."   
  
I shook my head and tightened my mouth, clenching my teeth against his intrusion. He sighed deeply and moved back, gesturing to the men and then to me. "Pleasure him." He said. My eyes widened in shock and disbelief. What was Alex ordering them to do? Was he relenting? Would the two men remove the device that kept my prick trapped in swollen agony?   
  
One of the slaves came around between my legs and the other crouched down over my back. I felt a tongue slide down my spine and I bucked as far as I could. Hands were all over me. A mouth came down on my left nipple teasing it, causing it to swell. Then a hand came down on my other nipple to pluck at it bruisingly. I didn't think my cock could grow any further, but it did, painfully.   
  
The slave behind me continued to lick down my spine. I felt his hands run over my back softly as he kneeded and massaged the tension there. He couldn't reach further up my spine than the diaphragm because of the wooden stocks, so he went lower. The point of his tongue trailed down my lower back to just above the tip of my crack. I tried to pull away, but then his hands slid under the cheeks of my ass and held me firmly so his tongue could thrust in and out between my buttocks. I moaned and cried under the assault. I could move so little. And I was even more frustrated than when they had washed me.   
  
In front, the other slave began kissing my forehead, then running his tongue along my eyelids, holding my face tightly in his hands. He bit my nose playfully and I shook my head forcefully. I wouldn't give in to this affection. He continued kissing down my jaw and then licking at my lips and clenched teeth. At that moment the other slave tongued between my cheeks and I moaned. The man in front seized this opportunity to slide his tongue in my mouth. Caught up in the agonizing pleasure I began to suck in his tongue without thinking. He wrapped his arms around my waist and began to rub his own erect cock along the area between my penis and thigh. But amazingly he never came. I was so certain he would. I whimpered when he finally pulled his tongue out of my mouth. But then he bent down over my groin and and licked the head of my cock. I screamed and Alex yanked the young slave away.   
  
"NOT THERE! THAT'S FOR YOUR MASTER ONLY!" The slave cowered as he roared. But just as suddenly Alex's anger dissipated and he pushed the man back toward me. "You can work around it, but leave his penis and testicles to me." He ordered. The young slave began touching me again, hesitantly at first, then more confidently. He started on my nipples, but drove one hand down around the base of my cock, pulling gently on the pubic hair. Then his tongue went down along my inner left thigh and it was worse than even the direct contact with my penis had been.   
  
"Stop!" I rasped. I was dazed by this point, close to the edge with the overload of my senses. And no release in sight. Alex pulled the slave working on my thigh away and offered his cock to me again.   
  
"Come on Scotty. I know you're dying for the release." He stroked his long thick member with both his hands, fisting it up and down in front of my face. The slave behind me continued his ministrations on my anal area. He'd gotten closer and closer to that sensitive opening and I was finding it very hard at this point to deny Alex. But I set my teeth tighter against the flesh offer, my nostrils flaring in defiance. I wouldn't do this. And when my brother began to caress my face with his member, I bit down even further. I felt as though my teeth were about to shatter and my swollen organ explode. But I wouldn't take what he was offering. He wouldn't break me. Finally, Alex reached a climax and ejaculated hard over my lips and chin. Cum dribbled down my jaw and on to my chest. But my mouth stayed closed.   
  
He stepped back with a frown, giving a sharp order to the slave behind me to stop. I could tell by the clench of his fists and the tightening of his shoulders that the orgasm hadn't been that pleasant for him. Just something he felt he had to do. An attempt to humiliate me and drive back my confidence. It didn't work. And I smiled up at him inspite of the pain in my groin.   
  
"Is that the best you can do, bro?" I taunted.   
  
That had to be the worst mistake I could make. Suddenly he smiled brightly. He was quickly losing any sympathy he had for me. "Oh no, bro. I can do a whole lot better. This is just the beginning." He confused me for a moment then when he suddenly changed topics. "You must be pretty thirsty by now. When's the last time you had something to drink?" His voice was pleasant enough, but I could see the cruelty in his eyes. I licked my lips, and with dawning horror realized just how thirsty I was.   
  
"Tell you what, Scott." Alex offered as he saw me lick my lips. "Let me put my cock in your mouth. Just let me set it in there for a few minutes, and I'll give you something to drink."   
  
"Go to hell!" Came my reply.   
  
"I think by tomorrow morning, you'll pretty much believe you're in hell." He snapped back. Then harshly he ordered the two slaves to leave.   
  
But as they rushed to the door, Alex softened his voice and said, "You may release yourselves." Both the young slaves looked at him longingly, almost unable to believe what he had said. He nodded. "You did well." He told them.   
  
In unison, the two slaves said, "Thank you master."   
  
After they'd gone he swung back around in anger. "I'll be back in twelve hours, Scott." Glaring at me venomously, he said, "You're an idiot. A stubborn headed fool. But in twelve hours you'll be screaming for something to drink through dry cracked lips and begging me to make that offer again. Only the next time, I'll up the price." With that he swung back around and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I heard the click of the lock and the lights went out. My cock continued to throb in the darkness.   
  
"Go to hell." I whispered to the empty room. 


	2. Part II

"Jean." I rasped in the pitch-black room. There was no light at all. Not even from under the doorway. It was isolating and frightening. I felt as though I'd been trapped in that darkness for a century. My mouth ached with the dryness and my tongue felt like a cotton ball. I could hardly produce any saliva to moisten my lips. And my penis was throbbing in answer to my fear.   
  
At first I'd tried to meditate. Logan had given me a few meditation sessions. For a gruff angry loner he sure could relax when he wanted to. But I never quite got the hang of it. I think a lot of people might just be right about me. I'm wound too tight.   
  
So then it was on to repulsive thoughts to try to ease the swelling of my groin. But all I could think about was the time Bobby had cut his arm and ignored the wound. It got miserably infected and swelled so bad Hank had to release the pressure by making long incisions down the length of the forearm. If I could have seen my dick at the time I'd swear it was as bad as Bobby's arm. The continuous electrical buzz slowly began to irritate the hell out of me. It was like Chinese water torture. And whenever the air conditioning vent came on, the frigid air wafted over my shaft tickling the raw nerves and causing me to howl in torment.   
  
And the thirst. It almost had me wishing I'd taken Alex's offer. Almost. I tried to secrete some saliva and swallow, but there wasn't enough anymore. Surely they weren't going to let me die of thirst. The way Remy had struck that guard made me believe he'd be sorely tested if I died. Or maybe this was Alex's plan. In order to save me from the humiliation  **he**  had suffered, perhaps he believed I had to die. He'd given up. He'd said as much. And perhaps he felt this was the only way to keep me from being raped by Remy. Had I not been so miserable, I might have agreed with this theory. But during that long night all I wanted, all I could think about was getting a drink of water and getting the ring removed.   
  
And I needed to pee. In spite of having had nothing to drink since I'd gotten here, I still felt the urge. My bladder felt uncomfortably full. But I couldn't urinate either. At first I held myself, not wanting to give into the urge. I would have hated for Alex to return after having soiled myself. But toward morning the sensation was more tormenting than the need to cum. But when I tried to relax to pee and found I couldn't I nearly screamed in frustration. I wondered fleetingly what would happen if my bladder got too full. Would it rupture? Didn't seem like a pleasant way to die.   
  
At that thought I did try to scream. It came out more as a croak. I rasped for Alex, begging him to release this torment. I'd do anything. Just take it off and let me cum and pee. But no one came. And then I received a minor comfort. I cried. The tears spilled down my cheeks for a few moments until my ducts dried up from the lack of moisture in my body. The salty liquid ran down into my mouth and I breathed a little easier as I slurped it down, moistening my lips and tongue. A strange, yet somehow appropriate thought, considering my present circumstance, occurred to me as I drank my own tears. I had heard that a man's semen tasted salty. I wondered, would it taste like my tears? If I allowed Alex to ejaculate in my mouth would it relieve this thirst and taste as wonderful as that blessed fluid? Little did I know I would soon get an answer to my questions. I was in denial at the time. I was so sure I could hold out. Time would prove me wrong.   
  
I must have finally dosed for a while, because suddenly the lights were on and Alex was standing in front of me. I blinked several times, trying to ease the cracked residue of my tears. Finally I broke the crust on my eyelids completely and looked up at Alex.   
  
"Morning, bro." I tried to sound cheery, but my voice creaked wearily and the words came out as a whisper.   
  
"Morning." He replied. "Did you sleep well?" I couldn't even hear a trace of sarcasm.   
  
"Like a baby." I rasped. "Could use a little more though. It hasn't been twelve hours already, has it?"   
  
He snorted at that. Good. Maybe this friendly bantering could bring him around. He patted my head and placed his cock against my lips. No such luck.   
  
"Would you like a glass of water?" Alex asked courteously. "All you have to do is take my dick all the way down your throat and hold it there until I pull out. That's all. Easier said than done."   
  
"No thanks." I croaked pleasantly. "I'm not really thirsty this morning."   
  
He chuckled. "Well, maybe later, okay?"   
  
"Maybe." I replied. Then he left. An hour later he was back with the same offer. I was close to taking it. My tears had dried up. My lips were cracked and swollen, and a tasteless sludge was forming on my tongue. But I politely declined when he stroked my hair. For some reason that gesture of brotherly affection irritated me.   
  
Every hour on the hour he came back. Or so he mentioned to me in passing. I could believe him. My brother was a hot-tempered man, but very organized. Very time oriented. He liked schedules. But every time he placed his cock against my lips I refused. In the end I wore him down. I beat him at the waiting game. My brother had a tendency to be impatient. And, I have to admit, he was on the clock here. Remy was due back in five days and he was expecting a compliant, docile Scott Summers in his bed.   
  
But what transpired once his patience wore thin made me realize I had pretty much made mistake number two. After the fifth time, when Alex recognized that I wasn't going to take him willingly and that I might end up dying from dehydration instead, he entered the room with a guard at his side. All other times he'd come alone. A shiver of fear ran down my spine.   
  
As the guard went around the stocks and stood behind my back, Alex knelt down in front of me. I turned my head nervously around to try to see what the guard was doing because I had seen him hiding something behind his back, but the wood plank blocked my view. So I turned to look at Alex. He looked into my eyes coldly and without a word grabbed my erect member hard and squeezed viciously. In shock and pain I opened my mouth and howled. Too late I realized their intentions. A latex bite block was shoved roughly into my mouth by the guard and secured tightly around my head. The bit covered my teeth and prevented me from biting down or closing my mouth. It was so well fitted to my teeth and firmly secured behind my head, that I found it impossible to dislodge with my tongue. Alex stood up and ordered the guard to leave, which he promptly did.   
  
The room became as silent as a grave. All I could hear was the sharp intake of my breath through my flaring nostrils. My jaw popped loudly once to relieve the pressure of not being able to close. And I started to shake, feeling my heart racing, knowing and terrified of what was coming.   
  
Alex still said nothing as he came forward. Only a grunt was issued as he pushed his cock between the bit and into my mouth. I gagged as a my arid tongue was shoved towards the back of my throat. Panic came over me as I desperately tried to shift my tongue under his intruding cock. His hands came firmly down on either side of my head to hold it in place and I bucked, trying to shout around the intrusion, begging him to stop. But he ignored me and continued downward. I could barely move. Not just from the straps that held me, but from the stiffness of being tied down in the same position for almost a day. Finally, mercifully, my tongue popped down below Alex's cock and I took a deep breath through my nose, trying to calm the stark raving fear of being choked.   
  
And then Alex spoke in a kind, calm and even tone that slowly reduced my fear. "Relax your tongue, Scott. Act like you're yawning and it will go down without you gagging. I won't let you choke." And when I thought I heard him bite back a sob, I relaxed just a little and he slid deeper into me. He stroked my hair softly. "That's it, bro. You can do this. Take it all the way down." He coaxed gently. Tears came to my eyes and suddenly my nose was pressed up against his belly. Relief filled my body for a moment.   
  
Alex held his cock inside my throat for several long agonizing minutes. Continuing to stroke my hair he spoke encouragingly. "You're doing great, Scotty. Just a little longer. Keep your tongue and throat relaxed and remember to breath through your nose." His voice was soothing and gentle. And in spite of his violation I couldn't bring myself to hate him. He was just doing what he'd been ordered to do. But I was angry all the same.   
  
After a few minutes, he pulled himself partially out and thrust slowly back down. Then he held himself there for several more minutes. A pattern began to form in this way. The time he held his cock down my throat became shorter and shorter. And the time he started to thrust in and out became longer and longer. I have to admit I was amazed at his control. I think I would have exploded the moment I put my prick in his mouth. Soon he pulled nearly all the way out letting me taste his pre-cum. And I was in heaven for the first time since the whole miserable affair had started. I wrapped my tongue around the head of his penis and lapped voraciously, coating my mouth with the moisture he offered. He clutched my hair tightly when I did this and moaned. His hips twitched calling him to thrust back down, but with a small mercy I felt him fight the instinct and allow me to take in all I wanted of the slippery fluid.   
  
Eventually his control broke and he thrust back down. I was ready for him by then. I had learned how to take it now. However, his strokes came much, much faster now as he reached his climax and it was becoming more and more difficult to control my gag reflex. And he was holding my head again, a whole lot tighter than before, making sure, without thinking, that I stayed right where he wanted me. He was driving hard into my mouth. I tried to concentrate on breathing through my nose, but the pace he'd taken up was making it hard to pull in air. I was panicking again, but now Alex seemed unaware. He began cursing, making lewd comments about my mouth. How tight and warm. How he couldn't wait to do this all again. His big brother, leader of the X-men on his knees in front of him forced to give head. What would the X-men say to that? he taunted. What would Jean say? I protested in anger, trying to yell at him around his thick hard shaft. But he kept ramming it into me, never letting up for an instant.   
  
"I'm...uhh...not...the little...brother...you can...order around anymore." He huffed. "I'm...your master...now!" With a roar he slammed hard into me and shot his cum deep down my throat. As he spasmed inside me I began to retch. The creamy thick fluid was making me sick. I could feel my stomach roller coasting. But he wouldn't remove his cock. Finally, when I started to heave violently, he realized what was happening and pulled out swiftly, falling back. I howled as loud as I could against the bit and retched for several more moments.   
  
Alex knelt down again in front of me and rubbed the back of my neck. "Breathe, Scott."   
  
"Ah can'." I tried to say as I gasped for air. "ak' i' ouu'!" I begged him.   
  
"No." He said without preamble, understanding immediately what I was asking. "Through your nose. Breathe through your nose." Tenderly he continued to stroke the back of my neck encouraging me to breath slowly through my nose until finally the retching stopped and I could take in air properly again. Kissing my cheek, he rubbed his smooth face against my neck. So soft. So sensual. "It's okay, Scott. I'm sorry. Please understand that I didn't want to hurt you, but you left me no choice."   
  
I closed my eyes blinking away tears, and once again felt the agonizing throb of my swollen penis. As I began to tremble in anger and fear, Alex began to stroke my body. His long slender fingers tried to sooth away the rage I was experiencing as reality set in. But his words belied his tender gestures as he started to explain what he had planned for me. The rage soon dissipated and fear was left in its wake. I shuddered violently as I listened to his voice.   
  
"Shh...It's got to be done." He explained gently, kissing my eyes, then running his tongue along my outstretched lips. "You're going to dehydrate, unless I get some fluid into you. You're so damn stubborn. I've called for one of Remy's physicians. He's going to insert an IV in your arm and give you fluid through your veins."   
  
I shook my head no, but he grabbed it firmly and forced me to look at him. "Listen to me. I'm not letting you die. You're not leaving me alone in this." Tears trickled down his face. "I need you, Scott."   
  
"'ATER!" I shouted at him. "'ake 'is 'UCKIN t'ing ouu!"   
  
Alex shook his head. "You left me no choice. I'm sorry." Then he stood up and turned to spot a kindly old gentleman standing quietly just inside the door. He held a black satchel in one of his gnarled hands. Alex motioned to him and he hobbled over to stand in front of me.   
  
"Remy and his damn training." The old doctor muttered as he quickly assessed the situation. He looked back around at Alex. "I suppose you aren't allowed to take this thing out of his mouth and give him some water?"   
  
Alex sighed. "No. I've got to keep it there or I'll never get it back in him."   
  
"So he needs an IV and some fluid then?" Alex nodded.   
  
"And I suppose he's going to have to live off your sperm for awhile?"   
  
My head jerked up at that. "'O!" I shook my head vigorously.   
  
"Yes." Alex said quietly. "It's part of the training. Something he's got to get use to. Re...My master will feed him real food after he's able to tolerate a scheduled feeding of my...semen." I shuddered and hung my head in desolation. This was too much.   
  
The doctor remained silent for a long while as he examined me. He gently took my cock in his hand near the base and peered at it closely. I winced, but his experienced touch didn't send me over the edge. "It looks okay. Have you drained him yet?"   
  
I looked up at the doctor, puzzled and fearful as he looked at Alex. "Not yet." My brother replied. "I was going to do that next."   
  
The old doctor nodded and turned back to me. "He'll need to empty your bladder." He told me kindly stroking my cheek. "It'll be uncomfortable, but a full bladder would feel a lot worse." Smiling at me, he patted my hand encouragingly. I hung my head in shame and understanding. "Now I'm going to put an IV in your hand. I'm sure you know it will hurt a little. But you need the fluid." He lifted my chin with a kindness I didn't think possible. "You'll behave for ole doc Samson, won't you son?" I looked at him for a moment and knew I couldn't say no. His kindness was sincere. He had no motive except to help me live. And while I hated what was happening to me, I didn't want to die. Not yet. I still had some hope left. Hope that I could change Alex's mind. Hope that I'd get back home to Jean. Hope that Remy Lebeau would die before he took my virgin ass. I nodded at him and he smiled. I took some comfort in that smile.   
  
With an amazing spryness for a man his age, Doctor Samson set up the items he'd need to start the IV and quickly wrapped a tourniquet around my wrist. Immediately a vein popped up. "Well, well, well." The doctor chuckled to himself. "Not quite as dry as I thought, boy." A motion to my left made me look up and I saw Alex smiling down at me, arms crossed, a little too smug. I closed my eyes and waited for the prick of the needle. But the doctor was a pro. I hardly felt it go in. And when I looked back over at my hand he was capping the IV and flushing it. Then without a word he produced a collapsing IV pole, put it together, then grabbed a bag of fluid and primed the tubing. The tubing was immediately connected to my IV and the bag began to drain into my vein.   
  
"Let that all go in." The doctor instructed Alex as he rose stiffly to his feet and gathered the unused supplies. "That ought to be enough for now. But I'll leave a few bags of fluid that you can hang in the next few days if he's not drinking water by then." Doctor Samson nodded knowingly. Patting Alex on his shoulder, he turned toward the door saying, "There are much easier ways to make a slave more willing, son. Try a little kindness. It goes a long way."   
  
Alex smiled at the doctor. "Not when the slave's as stubborn as my brother."   
  
Doctor Samson's right eyebrow lifted in surprise but he made no comment. Then he hobbled back out the door. "You better drain him now, before all that fluid goes in." He called over his shoulder as he left. "And give him a pillow to sit on. You wouldn't want to test Remy when he sees a redness or skin tear on the boy's backside. You know how he likes you slaves. Perfect." I was sad to see him go. 


	3. Part III

As soon as the doctor left Alex turned back to look at me. In his eyes I saw an intense sadness and pity. I had to look away. But he bent down in front of me and lifted my chin. I shut my eyes tightly. I didn't want to look at him. Humiliation burned in me, and he was the flame. By now I was well aware of how this would play out. I understood what he was planning to do and the shame radiated on my face. His fingers ran through my hair, but he remained silent. I knew he didn't want to do this anymore than I wanted it done. I still believed at that point that we could both get out of this situation. That it wasn't hopeless. A long time past between us silently. Finally I opened my eyes.   
  
"'hy?" I nearly sobbed.   
  
"Why?" Alex repeated. He spoke gently, caressing my face with a feather touch. "I've told you why, Scott. And I've told you this doesn't have to be this hard."   
  
I shook my head. "Ah cann'" I struggled to say.   
  
"Yes you can. You can, Scott." He murmured almost convincingly. "You already have." He finished, acknowledging what I'd done. "Just let it all go. Stop fighting."   
  
I shook my head again.   
  
Now he was angry and his fingers dug into my jaw. "Damn it, Scott! Don't be so bull-headed! You can't win!"   
  
I couldn't stop shaking my head. I couldn't believe that Remy would win. I refused. And so I would spend another day bound in this position. My mouth could no longer close against his intrusion. Tears began to fall. The liter of fluid was restoring my body, and the tears could not be stopped. I closed my eyes again still shaking my head. And Alex kissed away the tears tenderly. I did not doubt he loved me. But I thought at that moment, he was just weak. I realized later, I was just as weak.   
  
When my last tear was shed, Alex stood up and went behind me. A door I hadn't noticed opened and shut. A minute later he was back in front of me holding what looked like a small parcel with clear plastic wrapping covering a white paper box. I groaned and told him no, shaking my head more vigorously than ever.   
  
His eyes had gone cold again, almost clinical. "I've got to. Your bladder's full by now. It could make you physically ill if I let it go much longer. Remy wouldn't be pleased if you got sick."   
  
He knelt down and opened the plastic, removing the white paper parcel from inside. Opening the kit, he donned the sterile gloves and ignoring my hiss of pain, grabbed my penis and held it firmly, coating the meatus with betadine. Then he picked up a thin red rubber catheter, covered it in a clear gel, and eased into the opening. I tried to shift away. I screamed at him through the bit in my mouth, cursing at him with garbled words, twisting my hips as best I could to stop him. But there was so little I could do. I could barely move in my postition. He kept his head bent over my groin, refusing to look at me, just continued sliding that tube deep into my erection until it hit my bladder. As the urine began to drain, he removed his hand from my member and the intensity of the throbbing lessened. He'd dropped the end of the rubber catheter into the small rectangular container it had come in and let my urine flow freely. My screams had ceased by that time as I felt the release of my bladder. I can't begin to describe the relief I felt at that moment. I shuddered with delight and exhaled with a low moan.   
  
Alex smiled and looked at me, patting my abdomen, then rubbing my belly in circles. "Feeling better?" His voice was cheerful and warm. I nodded, my eyes still closed. But then I was empty and in one swift motion he withdrew the catheter. It wasn't quite as painful coming out as it had been going in, so I only winced. When I opened my eyes, Alex had gone back around me to that door I hadn't been aware of, taking my waste with him. My head drooped in exhaustion. But he wouldn't let me sleep. Not yet.   
  
"We'll have to do that at least every six hours." He said to me as he bent down in front of me again. "And I'll be..." It was difficult for him to say it and I raised my eyes in contempt. I would not make this easy for him. He tried to keep his voice level as he spoke, but the swiftness of his tone revealed his anxiety. It seemed to me that he really didn't want to do this. "I'll be feeding you at regular intervals." As if to bring me some small comfort he added, "No one else, Scott. Just me. I won't let anyone else...do this." He couldn't bring himself to say the foul words, but I knew what he meant. No one else would be allowed to cum in my mouth. At least not this week.  
  
Then he began to kiss my body, sucking in a nipple and making it pebble hard. His tongue worked magic across my chest and down around my groin. His hands ran along the side of me causing a shiver. I suppressed a moan as he went down along my right thigh with his mouth. But with a will of their own, my hips thrust up as far as they could. Gently he grasped my testicles and rolled them over his fingers, still licking and nipping at my inner thigh. I thought about who he was. *This is my brother doing this to me* Hoping the thought would be like a bucket of ice water tossed over my groin. But it only aroused me further. Then I tried to think about the fact that a man was making love to me. That I had had a cock in my mouth and sperm shot down my throat. No good. My eyes opened wide as I felt that horrible need to explode, to release. And I couldn't. In fury I tossed my head back against the wooden plank, banging it again and again, hoping I'd hit it so hard I'd pass out. Alex looked up from my thigh. Then he stood up and grabbed my head in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. In my periphery I could see his hardening penis and understood immediately that he'd been playing with my body to arouse himself.   
  
"Stop it!" He ordered. "I'll only put padding there so you won't hurt yourself." I stopped. There was no point. He had an answer for everything. Letting go of my head, he began to masturbate himself, stoking his cock over and over. I became fascinated by the movement of his hands. I just couldn't deny the eroticism in that motion. His long fingers curled around the organ sliding up and over the head, and then back down to the base. Veins pulsed up from the back of his hands. I saw his belly quivering just slightly as he kneeded and pulled and worked himself up. He began to thrust his hips, the tip of his cock coming closer and closer to my mouth, and when I saw the pre-cum begin to ooze from the head, I couldn't keep from trying to lick my lips. But as my tongue came out of my mouth it hit the tip of his cock as he was thrusting forward.   
  
I could feel Alex looking down at me just then. I kept my eyes downcast, but I imagined his eyes hooded with lust. I sensed him wanting to force his way in, but in kindness, he only pushed in an inch or so. And I was lost as his moisture flowed over my tongue. As before, I lapped vigorously, trying to get every drop, until he couldn't contain himself and pushed forward deeper and deeper. As he had encouraged me to do, I forced a yawn from my throat to open myself wide to receive him. I didn't gag quite as much, but when his belly pressed into my nose and his balls began banging lightly against my chin, Alex lost control. He came immediately and I choked. My throat tightened around his dick and I panicked, trying to pull away. But his hands clamped down on my head holding me in position. "Stop panicking and breathe." He said through gritted teeth. I was amazed that he could speak. His hips rocked forward as he emptied himself in me, shuddering and spasming as squirt after squirt shot down my throat. I made every effort to concentrate, but I could feel the retching begin, his semen shooting up into my nose as I choked on his prick. He refused to pull out. I thought he was being cruel. Finally, he softened in my mouth and I took a deep long breathe.   
  
He came out of my mouth slowly, dragging his limp member across my tongue as if to wipe it clean. I began to retch again and again after he'd taken himself out. As I tried to control my heaves, believing my vomiting him out would only cause further humiliation, Alex spoke harshly. "You have to try not to panic. When Remy wants a blowjob, he wants full control of your mouth. You saw how I couldn't put my hands on him. It's a power thing. Occasionally, if he finds you pleasing, he'll let you control the rhythm. But that doesn't happen often, so you have to be ready to meet his pace, whether he cums quickly, or takes his time. The only way to do that is if you don't panic."   
  
His voice softened then as he said, "Don't worry, Scott. I'll get you through this. I'll show you how it's done. And I'll be a lot kinder to you than he was to me." I coughed and looked up at him in surprise. He hadn't meant to be cruel. He was just trying to prepare me for what was to come. But he was getting to his feet, about to leave and his eyes were fixed on the door. When he looked back at me, my eyes were once more focused on the floor, my head hung in depression.   
  
"I'll be back in an hour or so. Today you'll be..." He hesitated and I could almost sense his distaste at the reference. "...fed pretty frequently. I don't have time to go easy on you. Remy took that luxury with me. I can't with you." He paused seemingly unsure of what to say next. "You'll get use to it, I promise. I know a lot of my own resistance came from being forced to service a man. If it had been a woman, well, I might not have fought so hard." Alex bent down once more to look at me. "It's hard to accept. I know. I've been there. But tomorrow it'll be a little easier. Then the day after that even easier." My hands balled into fists. I wanted to shut my ears.   
  
"Tonight I'll send men to entertain your mind. Get you use to the idea. It's all a matter of desensitization." Then his voice rang with a hint of enthusiasm as he said, "It's not all bad." I saw his eyes glaze as he got lost in a memory. Then they focused again on my face. "Some of the sex is amazing. Remy's as good as he boasts. Better, actually, when he takes his time. When he doesn't just see you as an object he owns. Sometimes he seems almost in love when he takes you. It's pretty potent, believe me. I use to think it was his power to charm. But now I know it's his ability. He likes a willing man. He told me once he liked the challenge of molding a man into a pleasure slave. And using his power took away the challenge."   
  
I wanted to talk to him then, free of this obstacle that encumbered my speech. I wanted to know how he'd been broken. I wanted to know how he could just accept his fate like this. And I wanted to know how my first night in Remy's bed would be. Slowly, I was beginning to understand the futility of my situation. Not completely, but I was starting to realize I wouldn't get away before that night. However, I couldn't speak clearly with the bit in my mouth. So I just starred at him. Not in anger, but not in acceptance either. He seemed to sense I wanted to speak because he shook his head slowly, saying, "Maybe tomorrow I'll take it out. If you're willing. Today, it'll be easier for you to get use to the cum without retching if you're wearing a bit."   
  
He stood once again, this time looking at the fluid bag hanging above me. It was empty. He clamped it and removed the tubing from the IV. On the table nearest me the doctor had left some syringes filled with flush. Alex took one and flushed the vein, making certain it wouldn't clot off. It was a minor mercy. The doctor could have easily inserted another IV, but Alex was showing me some kindness. At least I looked at it that way. He said nothing as he bent to his task. Then he got up and walked over to the door. He looked back at me once, before he left and said with little emotion, "In an hour, Scott. I'll be back in an hour."   
  
I sat there with his taste in my mouth shivering. I was nearing my threshold of pain. Emotional, as well as physical. This couldn't go on, and yet I couldn't stop it. I was trapped in a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. And my mind was telling me over and over to give in. Take him, suck him dry and get released from this painful ring. Soon I was sobbing quietly in desolation as I realized Alex wasn't going to take the bit out today. And he wasn't going to let me ejaculate for a good long while. 


	4. Part IV

I was dozing fitfully when Alex returned. The click of the lock must have woken me because I looked up startled and groggy to see him walking towards me with sleek predatory grace. My brother is a very beautiful man, so I've been told. Blonde hair (which had always looked strawberry to me due to the ruby quartz glasses);light brown eyes, that Jean described as golden; a well-proportioned athletic body with smooth bronze skin; And very well endowed, longer than mine, but not quite as thick. A long time ago, when Alex had first come to live at the mansion, Jean mentioned to me how handsome she thought he was. She described his look as the classic American male beauty, the boy next door look. Like me, Alex had been very thin as a child. But through rigorous exercise and hero training he'd filled out nicely. I never really appreciated how he looked. He was just Alex, my kid brother.   
  
But on that second day of training everything changed as I watched him approach, hips swaying in a powerful masculine saunter, slow and seductive. His shoulders dipped slightly as he moved with extraordinary confidence for a man held against his will as a sex slave. I was intensely aware of his nakedness as he entered the room that time. He was so casual about it, not appearing at all embarrassed. Pleasure slaves, I soon learned, were rarely permitted clothing. Remy, himself, never wanted his Summers boys, as he so cheerfully called us, clothed. Our beauty was to be always on display. I imagine Alex simply got use to the fact. My own nakedness would have certainly been a source of shame for me at that time if my thoughts and emotions hadn't been shoved aside by the constant painful throb between my legs.   
  
This should have embarrassed him, his lack of clothing. Alex had been a modest man. I'd rarely ever seen him in the nude. But again, I never really paid attention to whether or not he had on clothes. And this overtly masculine environment I sensed should have created an eternal blush on his face. Like me, Alex was staunchly heterosexual. He loved Lorna as much as I loved Jean. And as far as I was aware there had been few other lovers in his life, including my long dead wife, Madeline Pryor. Certainly no men. Alex would have told me. I was sure of this. He could have told me anything. I wasn't prejudice against gay men or their lifestyle. That would have been mighty hypocritical on my part, being part of a reviled minority myself.   
  
At least I thought he could have told me anything. But as he came toward me, ready to force his way past my lips, doubts began to creep into my head about our relationship. So many people, Jean included, had mentioned many times how he felt about me. *Alex is so unsure of himself when he's in your prescence* they'd say. Or *Alex looks up to you, Scott. He admires you so. You can't do anything wrong as far as he's concerned. But he thinks he lives in your shadow, like he can never be good enough*. He admired me, the rigid X-men boy-scout, by the book Scotty, always in control. Of course he was mostly wrong. I did adhere to my convictions rather strongly. But I never felt in control. I was always waiting for our lives or events and crises to spiral downward into chaos. Looking back on it, I guess he and I never really talked much about our darker fears and inner demons. Perhaps he envied me. If he did, he never showed it. Or I just never paid attention.   
  
And at that moment, as he came closer ready to 'feed' me once again, I began to wonder about his motives. In spite of the remorse he so clearly presented, I began to ask myself was there a part of Alex who enjoyed having this control over me? The answer came soon enough.   
  
I eyed his approach warily, doubtfully, and yet with a dawning sense of attraction. His chest fairly rippled as he advanced, the shining conqueror, Apollo, the sun god. Broad and chiseled, his pectorals were lightly clothed in fine golden hair. His nipples perfectly round and rosy. The visor had for once rung true. I could suddenly picture myself running my hands across that wide expanse sucking and teasing the pink buds erect while he moaned. His arms were powerful and tight. Barely an ounce of fat, his muscles lean and angled. So well-defined and masculine. His long lovely hands that could caress me into painful agony held two thin round pillows and a roll of tape. I had to puzzle at that for a moment, before they were swung away to his side as he neared and I looked in admiration and pure lust at his washboard stomach, cut perfectly with a small line of golden down that ended and merged with his light brown pubic hair. And between his legs the source of my torment and training hung semi-erect as if in anticipation of mastering me once again. I swear my mouth tried to water then as I watched it jangle heavy against his thighs while he walked, thinking about the warm thick pre-cum that might slide across my tongue, moistening it like a fine wine. I realized I wanted it,  _needed_  it, my thirst never slaked, and I blushed furiously.   
  
As Alex got closer, his brows furrowed and his lips twitched in a curious smile. He'd caught me eyeing his prick, while my face reddened. It wasn't quite a triumphant grin. Just a knowing one. He could see that I was weakening, wanting him in my mouth like a parched man crawling out of the desert. I tried desperately to swallow over the bit and looked away in shame and disgust.   
  
Without speaking, he went behind me. One of the pillows he carried was positioned directly behind my head and taped in place. "Just a precaution." He explained. "I have to be sure you won't injure yourself."   
  
Bending down he touched the middle of my lower back, just above the dimpled hips, lightly scrapping the flesh with a nail. It was like a tease of relief to an itch I couldn't reach, and I shivered all along my spine. Warmth flooded through my body. He then instructed me to lift my hips as high as I could and slid the other pillow under my rear. But when I sat back, I fell into his open waiting hands. Underneath, his fingers began to massage my buttocks firmly. I let out a long low sigh as the rawness of sitting in one position eased. His hands were magic after my long ordeal and I couldn't help wriggling in pleasure like a fish on a hook. However, I tensed immediately when one of his fingers ran down along my crack to circle my anus. In fear, fully expecting him to insert it, I tightened my cheeks over his hand, trying hard to keep him out. He only teased though, drawing the finger in a circular motion around the sensitive skin, then trailing down further to a spot just below my testicles. He paused there for a moment, then pressed down forcefully, rubbing fleetingly across the hollow. I roared against the bit and bucked wildly as blood rushed into every nerve ending in my engorged cock. Alex chuckled at my discomfort.   
  
"What? Jean's never touched you there before?"   
  
I winced, working hard to catch my breath as he withdrew his hands from beneath me. Then his arms came around the upper part of my belly and he leaned in stretching as much of his torso against me as he could. His hardening member stood straight up along my spine and soon I began to hyperventilate with sharp spurious gasps, my stomach rising and falling, lungs never filling enough.   
  
"Breathe." Alex ordered as one of his hands dropped down to pluck gently at my pubic hair. My shaft jerked in painful pleasure. I tried hard to concentrate. Tried to breath normally, but I was exploding inside, one extreme bundle of nerves. I was raw and ecstatic all at once. I wanted to cum so badly, I drew in a sharp breath of hope when one of his fingers tattooed a quick rhythm on the ring trapping my prick. As if realizing my misplaced hope, Alex quickly moved his finger back up to again play with my hair and stroke my belly.   
  
Resting his head lightly on the outward curve of my spine, after placing a soft kiss to draw out a shudder from me, he said, "You know, he's going to let me have you back here after he's stretched you well and taken his fill. He's said as much when he told me he was going to bring you here. He wants to watch me cum deep inside you. It was one of the reasons he took you. You're going to be my slave as much as I'm his." Ah. Now his motives were clear. Alex wanted to be free to control me. And in this place all inhibitions were gone. Truth was on display as bright as the sun and I groaned.   
  
I felt him smile into my back. "I won't hurt you, Scotty. I couldn't. I just want to get up there. I know it's wrong, but it's the one thing that's kept me sane in this place. I promise you'll love it. Every touch." His fingers reached up to tug my nipples playfully. "And every kiss." His mouth ran softly across my back. I let my head droop then and my eyes closed in exhausted desire.   
  
I must have dozed off for a moment, because he was standing in front of me the next time I was consciously aware. Cupping my chin he lifted my face and said, "Time for lunch." 


	5. Part V

I lost track of the number of times Alex returned to 'feed' me his cum. Pretty astounded that he could get it up every time, I wondered how he accomplished the feat, (Did it have something to do with genetics. I was pretty virile in the sack myself. But not that able.) until I noticed how his eyes shifted out of focus once, before he'd even laid a hand on me. Stimulants? Enhancement drugs? Some powerful narcotic developed in this bizarre world of sexual slaves and obvious hedonism? Something that would allow a man to orgasm to his heart's content. Never having been much of a drinker, let alone a drug user, I prayed Remy wouldn't demand its use by me.   
  
When he left me alone I'd sleep restlessly, dreaming of Jean. Being far away in an alternate universe with an inhibitor collar securely around my neck I couldn't feel her rapport and dearly missed it. Every waking moment I thought about her, unless Alex was in the room forcing his way down my throat. Then I would push any thoughts of her out of my mind. I refused to associate any hint of her memory in my mind with this face rape. I feared that if I did, if her name sprang to mind while I choked on Alex's cock, he'd have me. I'd given in. The fantasy would be too great. Like Pavlov's dog I'd salivate at the thought of blowing a man.   
  
Mercifully, after that first forced 'feeding', Alex never mentioned her name. I'm fairly certain he thought about it. Especially after he told me I'd be his slave. Yet Alex was never malicious, or spiteful, or cruel. Even during his time leading the Brotherhood when he almost let me die. Falling out of a plane, thousands of miles above the ocean, we'd been punching and kicking each other, arguing, when suddenly he teleported away. He told me later that he'd seen Storm chasing after us. If he hadn't noticed her, he explained, he would have taken me with him. Alex had just been playing his role for all he was worth. And this one act of seeming cruelty and attempted murder had cemented a trusting alliance with the Dark Beast. It furthered his aim to eventually rescue all those people being horribly experimented on by that vile alter-ego of Henry McCoy. This place and his acceptance didn't change that fact. So he never mentioned her. Just like he never mentioned Lorna.   
  
Eventually, toward the end of that long day, I was able to swallow his semen without retching. I'd been slowly, reluctantly following his instructions without success. I just couldn't help the gagging. He kept changing positions in my mouth, sometimes cumming deep in my throat, sometimes part way down and sometimes in my mouth. He explained this was to teach me to be ready to swallow at anytime. Very few masters wanted a slave who retched after giving head. Quite an ego deflator. I didn't think I'd ever be able not to, so I was just as surprised as he was when he ejaculated close to the back of my throat and I didn't heave. The thick creamy fluid slid down my esophagus and I gulped as well as I could. I prepared for the immediate rolling of my stomach, but as he pulled out his limp organ it never happened. I turned my eyes up to look at his face and he broke out in a bright warm grin. He'd been expecting the retching as much as I had.   
  
Patting my head in a brotherly fashion he exclaimed, "You did it!" There was undeniable pride in his voice and I winced. What a thing to be proud of. "Good boy." He added curling his fingers softly in my hair. "I knew you could." And then oddly enough my lips twitched up around the bit in a contorted smile as if I was so very grateful for my owner's praise.   
  
Alex looked at me for a long moment, thinking hard as his fingers stroked his chin. Then he said, "I think you deserve a break." My eyes widened and I tried to broaden my smile. I dearly hoped this meant getting out of this contraption. My legs had gone numb. My feet tingled as if someone were tapping them with tiny sharp needles. I had a dull annoying ache in my back from bending over slightly for so long. And my head pounded. The edge of the wood plank from the hole my head went through pushed the collar up tautly causing it to cut into my chin and the base of my skull. That time I'd banged it against the board had brought on a throbbing headache that never dulled. Despite the pillow underneath my rear felt tender and raw. My arms felt heavy and bruised as they hung from their fetters. The IV in my hand had begun to sear as I'd twisted and flexed the appendage trying to work out the dead pain. In short I was in continuous agony. A body's not meant to stay in one place for that long.   
  
Alex called for the guards and three came swiftly to his side. "Go get Bert and Ernie."   
  
I could see a closed-lip smirk form on his face and after the guards had gone he turned smiling down at me. "One of Remy's jokes. He never got to see Sesame Street as a child, and heard some theory on one of those ridiculously funny morning radio shows that spouted Bert and Ernie were gay." I made a feeble attempt to snort at this. " But then Alex's shoulders slumped a bit and his smile faded. "He names all his slaves after he buys them. At least the pleasure ones. He's got other slaves named after most of the X-men. I don't think it's meant as a joke. But none of them have our names, as far as I know. We get to keep ours. He likes that idea.   
  
He went silent after that, just leaning back against the stocks to wait. I started fidgeting, hoping he would say something else, wanting him to talk to me. But he seemed lost in his own thoughts and I could hardly make much of a sound by then. My throat was so dry and it was a chore to attempt.   
  
When "Bert" and "Ernie" arrived with their escort, Alex stood up and walked over to meet them. He spoke in a low voice which I couldn't hear and waved his hand at me. One of the guards stepped over to him then and handed Alex the little black control box for my collar. I recognized it immediately and cringed.   
  
"Look," he began as he finished talking to the two young slaves and came back over to me. "I'm going to let you out of the stocks. If you make any attempt to injure the guards or get away I'll activate the collar."   
  
In answer I made some sort of derisive grunt. Like I'd even be able to walk once they let me loose, let alone try to escape.   
  
One of the guards unlocked the padlock while another went around behind me. When the upper portion of the stocks was raised I fell back into the arms of the guard waiting behind me, stiff and hardly able to move my arms. The young slaves released the leather straps around my legs and I was dragged out from under the apparatus. Alex bent down next to me and laid a hand on my stomach. "The bit stays in and the ring stays on." I shook my head as much as I could in vigorous protest but he wouldn't relent. "I can't trust you yet."   
  
Standing up, Alex motioned to the guards and they dragged me over to an odd looking massueses table. It was a long vinyl cushion, soft and pliable, with a hole cut just below the middle and at the top. I was lifted up and lowered onto the table. My face went down into the top hole and my penis and testicles, thankfully, hung down into the other hole. I sighed in relief.   
  
Then Bert and Ernie went to work. They kneaded and pulled, rubbed and vigorously stroked my muscles back to life. I was in heaven and hell as joints popped and cracked. Circulation was restored to normal and the blood flowed back past nerve endings bringing them sharply back to life. I tried to relax at first and calm myself as they tugged and massaged my limbs, but I couldn't control the shaking. It was almost unbearable. Finally the stinging sensations of my raw nerves began to ease and I swam into bliss. One of the slaves bent over my back and placed the heel of his hand over my spine pushing down firmly to pop the vertebrae back into alignment. The other took a foot pressing hard into the fleshy bottom driving a fantastic warm sensation up my side. It was delicious. Very soon after I was asleep and then abruptly it was over as the guards raised me roughly to my feet. I swayed unsteadily in their arms for several minutes, my eyes closed as I luxuriated in the joy of standing unconfined.   
  
I was walked around the room by the guards, slowly at first to ease me back into the movement. When I was able to walk normally without assistance, Alex came over. He'd been standing by the door, silent and watching, little emotion on his face. Each time I looked at him, I wondered what he was thinking. But when he grew silent and calm like that I was never able to read him.   
  
He had grabbed a six-foot chain off one of the tables nearby and now snapped it to one end of my collar. "Come on Scott." He said cheerily. "I'll show you around." 


	6. Part VI

Alex and I toured the palace at a leisurely pace, with him occasionally tugging at the leash. It wasn't easy walking with my dick engorged and my mouth held open. But Alex left my arms free, telling me as he clutched the control box that if I put my hands anywhere near the devices he'd use the box. So I ignored the throb, the dryness in my throat and the itch underneath my collar, and tried to focus on what he was saying.   
  
Remy was in charge of the country. Not actually a king. He was called a patriarch or elder. And he was loved by the people of this land. Of course he was wealthy and he owned a good deal of slaves, workers and pleasurers. Alex knew the country was at peace and thriving, but little more. The race of people living here were human, and I assumed we were on earth, but Alex explained that he and I were referred to as 'earthers'. He wasn't quite sure why. Remy hadn't told him much and none of the other slaves would tell him what he wanted to know. The guards wouldn't say anything to him. And all were more than a little in awe of him. Remy told Alex he was very special because of his mutant abilities. All earth mutants were gifts of the gods, and were only allowed to be taken as pleasure slaves.   
  
"I was a mistake." Alex had led us into a large meeting room that was essentially a throne room. A small unadorned chair stood at the end of a raised dais. In the middle of the room was a large oval table for the council members. "The retrieval units were on the "hunt" for a young blonde male mutant from our universe to present as a gift to a visiting patriarch. Coincidently the mutant they were hunting for happened to be in the same government building I was in. He was younger. I have no idea what his mutant power was. But we were the same build and blonde. The only real difference were our eyes. His were blue." Alex glanced at me as I nodded. He had light brown eyes.   
  
"I'd just come from a meeting with Forge." I kept my eyes on him, understanding what he was saying. Forge and he had been trying to restart X-Factor, the US government laison group of mutants to the public. It hadn't been going well. Hatred toward mutants was on the rise. No one in the government wanted to be associated with any mutant for fear it'd ruin their career. Forge had been the one to call me, to tell me Alex had disappeared and his car had been found in the parking lot.   
  
"On my way to my car they appeared. Before I could say anything they'd locked onto my mutagenic signature and brought me down hard, snapping this collar into place." Alex fingered the edge of his collar absently and looked toward the throne. "Then we were here, in the palace, in the portal room." Dropping his hand he looked back at me. "Most of the wealthy buy their 'earthers' through a service. Remy has his own portal and retrieval units. Usually they're more accurate. Much better hunters. This was a rare mistake. They'd locked onto to the wrong mutagenic signature and unfortunately we looked pretty much alike."   
  
He closed his eyes and let out a low tired exhale. "I was dazed when then brought me through, like you. And I tried to fight, but I was too weak and too overpowered. They had my hands cuffed behind me and stripped me in moments. Then they led me here. I couldn't make any sense of it and when I saw Remy sitting on that chair in some semblance of authority I felt relieved. I was sure it was some weird mistake. And it was. Only it didn't help me." Alex looked so tired then, so lonely and sad, I almost stepped over to put my arms around him. But he turned away suddenly as if anticipating my actions and wanting no part in them. No pity, no empathy either.   
  
"Remy was surprised when he saw me. He came over to me immediately, said my name and something to himself in Cajun. Then he put his arms around me, kissed my cheek and told me how sorry he was I had gotten mixed up in his plans. He gestured to the guards and started reprimanding them. One of the retrieval units said, "One 'earther' mutant's just as good as another." Then he shoved me hard down to my knees. Remy hit him violently with one of his charged cards and said I was not just any mutant, I was an X-man and a Summers. Then he ordered the units to go after the right person this time. They left me alone with him, on my knees, naked with my hands still cuffed behind my back."   
  
"After they'd gone, he pulled me up to my feet. I asked him to take the cuffs off and to tell me what the hell was going on. "Of course, mon ami." He said. But then as he went to release the cuffs this odd look came into his eyes and he smiled up at me. Then he stood back and stroked my cheek saying something in French or Cajun. I wasn't sure. But I understood what he said next very clearly. "What a prize, eh?" I flinched my head away and stepped back."   
  
  
  
Alex had moved over to the oval table. He stopped talking for a moment and I could almost feel the rage and frustration radiating out of him. Suddenly he slammed a fist down on the table. "What a prize! I asked him what the hell he meant by that and demanded he take off the cuffs. I was an X-man and one of his teammates for God's sake! He just smiled that infuriating smile of his and told me exactly what he meant. After seeing me naked and collared and cuffed in front of him, he just couldn't possibly let me go. Of course I was too good for any other patriarch. Remy wanted me for himself. He asked me straight out if I'd ever had sex with another man." Alex whipped around and looked over at me. "I swear, Scott," he continued, his voice a controlled rage, "if I'd had my hands free I would have killed him." I nodded in understanding. "All I could do was step back away from him. Remy laughed and said "I'll take that as a no". He came toward me still smiling as I continued to back away. But then he used that damn power of his and stopped me in my tracks. Before I knew it I was kissing him." Alex closed his eyes and swallowed. "And he was...he...shit! He was stroking my cock. I've never felt anything that intense in my life! I couldn't help but respond. He had me cumming hard in minutes. And right after he withdrew his power. I knew what he had done. I knew how I had responded and I cursed him then. Called him every name in the book! He just kept smiling until I stopped screaming. Then he called the guards."   
  
Rubbing his forhead and then running his fingers through his hair, Alex was silent for a few minutes. Still unable to really say anything that could be understood through the bit in my mouth, I merely watched him, waiting for him to go on. But he just stepped toward me, took my leash and said, "Come on. I want to show you something."   
  
We walked in silence out of the throne room and down a maze of hallways and stairs. I tried to concentrate on where he was taking me. I wanted to get a feel for the lay out of this place, in case I ever had a chance to escape. My mind was working in overtime. I was a strategist and an analyser. I had a good sense of direction too. But there were too many halls and too many stairs for me to form a good picture of the palace. And with the trobbing in my groin, I could scarcely focus on memorizing anything.   
  
Finally we stopped outside an elaborately carved wooden door. It was an image of an orgy. All men, all touching one another, kissing and pleasuring one another. Beautiful images of men set in a dark oak. I could almost appreciate its beauty, had the subject not been so repulsive to me.   
  
Alex knocked once on the door and a young naked man opened it immediately. I was ushered into another long dim corridor. Tapestries hung on the walls. Again the pictures reflected erotic homosexual themes. Alex led me down the hallway. At the end there was a spiral staircase going down. He pulled me quickly down the stairs. As I reached the bottom step I looked up to see a large plush cell. There was an opening in front of us with blue electric lights streaming from one side to the other. The room was elaborately decorated. I could see a large four poster bed with a canopy directly across from the door. Dark maroon and navy blue drapes hung from the canopy. A beautiful persian rug lay in front of it. All around the room were candle holders with colorful scented candles lit in each. The room was bathed in a eerily seductive light.   
  
Alex went over to the door and looked in. I noticed his free hand clenching and unclenching into and out of a fist. Someone stirred behind the curtains and peeped through. It was a young male slave, maybe 20. "He's here for training. Another gift for another patriarch." Alex said to me. I looked at the slave in fascination. On his collar I could see a chain that drooped back into the curtains. "He's a difficult one." Alex continued. "A fighter. He'll probably need to go through the same training you're going through to break him."   
  
I continued to stare into the cell as Alex spoke. I couldn't look at him just then. What he said tore at my emotions. Another man having to endure this torment. I wanted to deck my brother then. My hands even balled into fists. But I held my anger in check. This wasn't Alex's fault. It was Remy who needed to suffer. It was Remy who I really wanted to pound at that moment. And Alex held the control box to my collar. Despite his focus on the slave in the cell, he was well aware of my every movement. I'd go down before I even touched him.   
  
"The guards put me in there." Alex started again in that low controlled voice. "It was several days before I saw Remy again. They left my arms free, but I was left naked with the collar on. The first time one of the guards brought food I attacked him. But he had the control box and I was on the floor in seconds, barely able to move. I tried a few more times to get out, but they were prepared and and they were fast. I couldn't even touch them before they'd hit the button and I'd be down. The light bars are also neuro disrupters, but more intense. Touch them and like this box you're paralyzed for about 15 minutes or so. I found that out on my first day. No damage done, not a lot of pain, but it's a frightening lesson. You can't move and you can hardly breathe."   
  
My brother looked at me then and gave a twisted little smile. "I don't know if you realized...when I was living at the mansion, how I rarely got undressed in front of you or the other guys. I'm not an exhibitionist. Even around Lorna I usually covered up unless we were in bed." I nodded as if to say I remembered. "She use to laugh and tell me I had a great body and...well...but that time in the orphanage really brought out a modest streak in me." I twisted my lips up in a slight empathetic smile. I understood perfectly well his antipathy toward exhibitionism. I was pretty much the same way. There'd been little to no privacy and some of the other boys could be rather cruel.   
  
Alex nodded. He could see I understood. "Well, those first few days, I covered myself with one of the bed sheets or anything I could use. Every time one of the guards saw this they'd hit the button on the control box. After a while they got tired of me rebelling and just stripped the room of anything that I could use to cover up. Shit, it was embarrassing! Anyone who came down here could see everything." He shook his head remembering the shame it caused him. A sudden wave of sympathy came over me then and I put a hand on his shoulder. Alex shrugged it off angrily. "Don't pity me, Scott." He quipped. "You're in the same boat." I stepped back with some resentment dropping my hands to my sides. But he was right, of course. I nodded.   
  
After a few silent minutes he continued. "Two, maybe three days later, Remy came to see me. He apologized for keeping me waiting. I lunged at him. But he deflected my attack easily. And one of the guards hit the control panel on the collar. When I was lying on the floor hardly able to move, Remy bent down next to me and said, "Cher, that's only gonna make me want you more. Don't make this harder than it has to be." Then he ran a finger down my back and pulled me over into his arms. All I could do was lie there, wishing he'd stop touching me. I was angry and very aware of where he was putting his hands. So I knew he wasn't using his charm. But I was responding to him anyway. My body didn't seem to care that my mind didn't want this." He gave me a quick glance. I could see the rage and shame there in his eyes. "I won't get in to the details. Suffice it to say, Remy's as good as his boasts."   
  
"After that he came to my cell several times a day. I realized quickly he was trying to seduce me. He kept telling me there wasn't any shame in what he wanted. I was a very attractive man. And he knew by the way my body responded, how my dick became erect at his touch, that I found him attractive. I just kept yelling at him that he was wrong, that this whole situation was just plain sick. And I kept attacking him. And the guard kept using the box. And then Remy would jack me off again. I was so disgusted by it all, I can't begin to tell you how much I hated him." Alex looked back at the slave in the cell and swallowed hard. "He finally got the picture that his seduction wasn't going to work. I wasn't going to cooperate willingly. So then he started in with his charm power. The first night he used it was the first night he fucked me." Alex snarled as he said this. The sex might have been amazing, but he still wasn't completely under Remy's spell. He resented what had been done, what he'd been forced to do. But still, he wasn't fighting anymore. I suppressed a shudder wondering how Remy had been able to break my brother in so completely. How had he made him so compliant? Alex's tone told me how much he still hated being a slave, but his actions proved otherwise. I turned my head to peer in at the captive on the bed, while in my periphery I studied my brother.   
  
"I have to admit," Alex said after a moment or two, "Once I got over the initial pain, the sex was unbelievable. Like I said, he's as good as he claims. But once he let down his concentration and the charm wore off, I realized what I'd done. What he had done to me. I went after him again. I really wanted to kill him, Scott. I really did. He figured it out soon enough that it was going to take more than his charm power and prowess to break me. That's when he had me taken to the 'play room' and seriously trained. Like I'm doing to you." He looked down at my cock then and placed a finger on the head. I jumped back before he could place more of his hand there, but he just dropped it back to his side and said, "I can't tell you the rest. Remy might tell you about it later. But it's like I said before, he'll find your weakness and use it without hesitation." I blinked at him, wondering what weak point in him Remy had found and exploited. But before I could even come up with an answer, Alex was tugging a bit roughly on my leash and heading back up the spiral stairs.   
  
Back down the long narrow hall we went until we reached a side hall I hadn't noticed. A large tapestry covered the entrance. He led me through it into another long hallway. This time I could see openings along the passage. As we passed by I saw men lounging on daybeds sleeping or talking to one another or engaged in other activities that caused me to look away immediately. Some of the rooms were blocked by curtains. I heard moans and sighs coming from them. Once I heard a scream. Wether from pleasure or pain, I wasn't certain. I could feel my face flush a bright red. Glancing up at Alex I saw him looking at me with a certain amount of smugness. I looked away quickly in anger damning him for enjoying my embarrassment.   
  
Finally after a few more turns and passageways we arrived at a large room. In the center was a square pit two steps deep and about ten feet wide. It was full of lush intricately designed pillows. The room was carpeted in a soft feather-like fabric with well over a hundred more pillows in various shapes and sizes. And two king-sized beds stood opposite one another on the east and west walls. I could see cuffs and iron loops adorning the beds and several chains coming from the headboards.   
  
Alex let me take in the room for several minutes before leading me across to another door. Stepping through I saw it was a large communal bathroom. Two huge tubs sat in the center, showers off to the left and urinals and toilets to the right. No stalls, no doors. Everything open for viewing. I turned my head slightly to the side and down and shuddered. My brother said nothing, but tugged on the leash and led me over to a urinal. "Stay here." He ordered me. "I'll be right back." Dropping the chain, he turned away, then paused and turning back, put a hand on my shoulder. "This box has a mile radius. We'd find you before the effects wore off, Scott. I don't think you could find your way to the portal room before I hit the switch." I looked back over my shoulder at him and nodded. He knew me well enough to know I'd thought of running the minute he'd said he was leaving me alone unrestrained.   
  
He was back in a moment with the catheter kit and a rolling table. When I saw it I stepped back flinching, but Alex pulled me back over to the urinal gently without a word. I sighed, compliant. Well aware how jumpy I'd be when he drained me standing up, Alex stood behind me, readied the supplies, sterilized my penis and steadied me from behind with his body while he inserted the agonizing red catheter and drained my bladder for a second time. I hung my head and grabbed both his arms when he did this, trembling and curling my toes on the cool tiled floor, trying to hold myself still. I knew there was no way he wasn't going let me out of this penile device, so I needed him to empty me. It only took a moment or two, but I could feel his engorged cock pushing against my spine, and it added to my humiliation and excitement even more. He said nothing when he withdrew the catheter and I sighed in relief. I fell back slightly and he caught me wrapping my torso firmly in his arms. I felt his warm breathe on the back of my neck, and my trembling which hadn't ceased, increased. Then I felt my knees turn to water when his lips brushed my skin. I tried to struggle, fight against his caress, but I was raw with a need that hadn't been released in so long. He lowered me to the floor, arms still holding me tight, lips and tongue trailing across my neck drawing a restrained groan from my open mouth.   
  
In a moment he had me on my hands and knees, running his tongue down my spine. He swiped a finger along the crack of my ass and probed the anus gently. I bucked back into him and suddenly felt the head of his penis pressed against my opening. I seriously panicked then and pushed up violently throwing him back. As I scrambled to my feet, I noticed the control box he'd left on the rolling table. I grabbed it and spun around, running hard into Alex, who'd quickly recovered from my throw. His face was contorted in rage and without a word his hand came down to twist my cock mercilessly. I screamed and dropped the box, falling to the floor in fetal position clutching my testicles and penis. My brother stood over me with gritted teeth.   
  
"You better not even think of trying that on Remy." He hissed. I looked up at him through tears.   
  
"'eeeemy!" I tried to say. "'ou can'....'ot...'ot 'ow!"   
  
Alex shook his head. "I know that Scott! You think I don't?!" I just stared at him trying to swallow. I didn't know. I'd panicked, not trusting him to control himself. Wearily I dropped my face back onto the tile and closed my eyes.   
  
"I wanted to." His voice was calmer when he spoke again. "But I know I can't. Remy'd be royally pissed and I can't afford to incure his anger. But I need you to have some idea how it'll feel so you  _don't_  panic."   
  
He took my arm and pulled me to my feet. I was unsteady, so he held my shoulders until I'd recovered enough to stand on my own. "Damn it, Scott! What'd you think?" He asked as he steadied me. "That I'd rape you? That I'd take you without preparing you first? You think I'd be that cruel?" I dropped my head refusing to look at him. I  _didn't_ trust him. His brows creased and he bent his head down to catch my eyes. "You don't trust me, but you've got to!" He shook me slightly. "You've got to, Scott! If you don't he'll go af..." Alex caught himself then and I looked up sharply, trying to figure out what he'd been about to give away. It was Alex's turn to avoid my look as he pulled me into his arms again. "I just want you to be prepared. I wasn't and it scared the hell out me. If Remy hadn't been using his charm, I would have done the same thing. It's a whole lot worse when you're not ready for it. For the feel. It's easy to panic." He pushed me back then, but still held my shoulders. "And one of the guards has a back up control box. One that activates every collar in this palace. If they'd known you'd gotten a hold of that one, all the slaves would have been punished. You want that to happen?" *Damn* I fumed. They'd thought of everything. *Damn Remy*. 


	7. Part VII

After retrieving the control box, Alex placed it back on the rolling table and pushed the table out through a side door. Then he led me back into the main room. Between the pit and the door he pushed me to my knees. Then he went over to a chest in the room and brought back a strip of leather. It looped around my waist and two leather cuffs attached to the belt secured my arms to my side. I looked at him narrowing my eyes in frustration.   
  
"It's time to get you use to...all this." He said in reply to my unspoken question. "I don't think I can trust you not to fight us yet." I had some idea what he meant. It had to do with desensitizing my mind to men having sex with one another. But I planned to keep my eyes closed. I wouldn't watch. One thing I'd learned in my short life as a mutant with uncontrollable eye plasma bolts was how to keep my eyes shut. There wasn't much a person could do to make me open those destructive eyes. Part of my intense training had been to keep those beams under my contol, regardless of what anyone did to me. Unfortunately my X-men training hadn't quite prepared me for this situation. I guess Professor Xavier and I hadn't been that perversely imaginative.   
  
I shut my eyes tightly, with every intention of refusing to watch. But when Alex's hand came down on my penis and he told me sharply to open my eyes, I jumped in pain and immediately did what he asked. I wasn't ready for this kind of torture. "Keep them open, Scott, or I'll twist it harder."   
  
A guard entered the room then with Bert and Ernie. They immediately went around the room lighting all the candles. A lite musky scent began to fill the room from the incense burners. As I breathed it in I began to relax and I wondered if it had some soothing property mixed in. Very soon the overhead lights were dimmed and the room was bathed in a soft sensual, almost romantic, glow.   
  
When the two slaves had completed their task they came and stood nervously in front of me, both shifting from foot to foot. Alex went over to the young men and said something to them, which I couldn't hear. Then he sat down next to me. "We'll start this off slow." He told me. "I want you to keep your eyes open and watch them the whole time. If you close your eyes or look away, I'll grab your dick. Got it?" I looked up at the two anxious slaves in answer. "You can begin." Alex told the two.   
  
Hesitantly Bert began to touch Ernie. His hands ran down the other's torso slowly. They lingered around his groin but then moved over and down a thigh, caressing each in it's turn. Ernie responded immediately. His hands began to move over Bert. Soon they had both relaxed in front of me, my brother and the guard and were passionately exploring each other with their hands. A finger swirled here, a hand came down there. Rubbing, massaging, working each other's muscles in the same manner in which they'd worked on mine, only with more sensuality, more erotcism. I held my emotions in check while they played with each other. I kept my eyes on them, but tried to focus on other things. However, their increased cooing and moaning distracted my mind from going elsewhere. Never kissing each other and never laying a hand on each other's private parts, the two slaves continued their caressing for about an hour until Alex ordered them to stop. Then two other slaves took their place and started where they had left off.   
  
The next pair began touching each other in much the same way Bert and Ernie had. But within minutes they began to kiss long and deep. I could see their tongues darting in and out playing with each other until one of them drew his partner's tongue into his mouth and started suckling it thoroughly. My nostril's flared as I inhaled harshly wanting desperately to shut my eyes or look away. But the scent of the burning incense miggling with the smell of male sex was overwhelming my senses and I couldn't help but watch. And the ever present threat of Alex's hand clamping down on my painfully erect cock kept my eyes focused in front of me on the performance. If I so much as blinked too long I felt that hand.   
  
As the kiss lengthened, the two men began to run their hands along each other's spine rutting against each other. Harder and harder they thrust. I was so certain they were about to climax when Alex ordered them to stop. Immediately they backed away. It amazed me that they didn't touch themselves or cum anyway. But the only hint of their need was in their still erect cocks and their rapid breathing.   
  
My brother stood up then and went over to them saying something quietly. The two smiled their pleasure and quickly walked behind me. I turned my head to look around curiously not noticing the guard that came up next to me and knelt down until he had a hand over my cock drawing me back around with a yelp to face Alex.   
  
"No peeking." Alex said with a smirk. "Keep your eyes forward and enjoy the show. I'll be back in a little while." He nodded at the guard. "He'll keep you company."   
  
Then Alex glowered at the guard. "You know the rules. If my brother tells me you've done anything other than kept him from looking away or shutting his eyes, I'll believe him and you'll deal with Remy." I saw the guard frown in anger back up at my brother, but he nodded. He had probably hoped he could use my mouth without getting caught. But Alex left him no choice. I could have lied and said he'd done something and he'd have been punished. He understood this. But it didn't really help me much as he used his hand more forcefully and more frequently to keep me in line.   
  
The next two slaves who came in were allowed to touch each others cocks as they kissed, playing with the the shaft and testicles, stroking and caressing each other into gentle thrusting motions. From behind I heard the soft moans of pleasure coming from the last set of slaves and I nearly shut my eyes in answer to the thrill I felt run through me. My curiosity had been rewarded.   
  
Suddenly one of the slaves had had too much and he ejaculated with a cry. I thought it was from his orgasm, but he fell back with a look of shame and fear, and I realized quickly that he wasn't allowed to cum and would be punished. Sure enough, a guard came running over and grabbed the slave by shoulder. He threw one of the penile rings to the other slave and gave a sharp barking command. Then he bent down and held the offender tightly by his arms. The man squirmed and pleaded for a minute before the other slave began to stroke him back to erection. Once he'd gotten him stiff to the point of climax, he clamped the ring around his cock and the slave screamed. My cock throbbed in sympathy. Afterward the guard dragged him over to the wall of cuffs and iron hooks and secured him there. It was warning to the other slaves. And it would be further punishment for the offender, I would learn, when I saw one or two of his fellow captives go over to him later on and tease him into agony.   
  
A new partner was brought in and with the obediant slave, the two began playing with each other cocks once again. I watched in frustrated arousal and thirst as their shafts became thick with pre-cum and their hands slid easily across the flesh. What a waste of fluid. I groaned softly to myself, hoping I wasn't heard, but the chuckle from the guard assured me I was and he patted my dick in amusement.   
  
When the pair had come very close to climaxing, they pulled away from each other and looked over at the guard. He motioned them to go behind me and soon their coos and moans of delight miggled with the other two behind me. I heard a low hiss of relief as one of the slaves orgasmed and I cringed in resentment. The guard's hand came down again and squeezed, causing my head to shoot up in obediance. Two new slaves moved into position.   
  
They began as the other two had, stoking each other's pricks and kissing passionately. I began to wonder how these men could engage in sexual activity with one another and be seemingly unconcerned about who their partner was. Male slave after male slave was paraded in front of me to tantalize my senses, and everyone of them seemed uninhibited by the acts. Most of them even seemed to enjoy what they were doing. I was certain I'd never be able to perform like these men. I'd never be able to get it up, not in front of people watching. But, as I have mentioned before, I was wrong. These were well-trained pleasure slaves. And all of them were young, fit and beautiful. Remy had good taste, I had to admit, once my perspective had changed and I began seeing men as sexual beings.   
  
The night went on and on. The perfomances increased in sexual explicitness. All of it would ultimately lead to penetration, I knew, the final act to purge me of my repulsion toward male sex, one step closure to an end to my resistance. The next acts involved blowjobs, long and slow and sensual. I felt my mouth water slightly as one man drank another dry. At this point the slaves were allowed to release. I had an urge to groan again, but kept my voice in check not wanting the guard to see my response as one slave came forcefully into the other slave's mouth, holding the man's face firmly against his belly.   
  
I have to admit, by this point all that sexual activity was working its way into my head. Slowly I was starting to see it all in another light. Beautiful slaves subjected to their master's will, touching and fondling and sucking each other without restraint. Beautiful men as slaves. My body responded even when my mind screamed no. A light sheen of sweat had broken out over my body. I was shuddering every so often when one of the men thrust a little harder. And several times I caught my hips rocking upward to the motions of another slave's hips. In my periphery the guard grinned.   
  
But then the actions changed to center on the anal opening and repulsion took hold of me again as I watched one slave begin to tongue the crack of another. Seeing the obvious disgust on my face, the guard called one of the slaves from behind us to come forward. "Angel" was ordered to stand in front of the slave being tongued and that slave was ordered to give him head. Basic behavior modification. I responded sexually to blowjobs, therefore add tonguing with that act and I'd respond eventually. Another hour passed as one man after another came to lick and thrust his tongue into the puckered opening. I was getting tired and the guard had to twist my cock just to keep me awake at times. My body, worn down through observation and fatigue began to respond to the visual stimulation. And when one of the men thrust his tongue deep and hard into the opening I moaned with pleasure. A hearty laugh came from the guard. I snapped back to reality.   
  
"Gettin' use to it?" He grunted wickedly. "Pretty boy like you oughta love licking that pansy's asshole when he orders it." I kneeled up sharply at that clenching my fists. I wanted to grit my teeth, I wanted to strangle the guard, I wanted to deny any feelings I had at that point. And I wanted...I blinked...I wanted Alex, right there, right now. On me, in me, any way possible until I came and came screaming his name. I sat back on my knees taking deep breaths. I closed my eyes and the hand clamped down again. Against the pain I held my eyes shut tight, letting it buoy up my resistance. I let the pain punish me for what I had wanted.   
  
But soon, very soon, the guard began twisting it harder as he whispered roughly in my ear, "Think this is the only way to make you watch? We know how to make men scream, beggin' to watch, just to stop the...sensations. I don't think you're much different, pretty boy. But keep them eyes shut any longer and we'll see what it takes to make ya beg."   
  
I opened my eyes with a heavy sigh. The last thing I wanted was to see his smug face in front of me as I begged.   
  
Another hour ticked by with more tonguing. I was wide awake now, as I caught a second wind. And I was no longer repulsed by a tongue sweeping up and down a man's crack, probing and teasing and entering the sensitive opening. After another hour I began to actually think I could enjoy it. I inwardly cringed at the thought, but it wouldn't leave me alone.   
  
One more step to dull my repugnancy. One more step to break me down. And then there were fingers probing the entrance to a slave. The one probing was given lube to ease the insertion and prevent any tearing. One finger in and out. Then another. The man being fingerfucked began to rock back and forth in pleasure. He moaned and wriggled asking for more and deeper. The other obliged, placing a third finger beside the two and pushing in forcefully. My breath came rapidly, with short gulps. They were so close to full penetration I could hardly stand the anticipation. I wanted to yell at them to get on with it. But then I looked at the other slave's face, the one being fucked and I became mesmerized by his look of bliss as he shuddered and spasmed without ejaculating.   
  
"The prostrate." Alex's words came clear and sharp in my ear and I swung my head around to look at him. He'd come up beside me and replaced the guard without me even aware. "Watch." He said to me, gesturing to the two slaves. One of his hands ran up and down my spine, causing me to shudder like the slave in front of me. "It's what makes it so enjoyable a good deal of the time." He spoke quietly. "You'll see." I could feel him smiling at me, but I kept my eyes forward, not wanting to break his fingers from their lovely sensual trail down my back.   
  
Suddenly he stood up without saying anything and motioned for the guard to take his place. I sighed in disappointment at the loss of contact, but continued to look at the men in front of me, not wanting to incur the pain of disobediance. I had the urge to look around, curious to see if Alex was still in the room. Wondering if he was being served by one of the slaves behind me. So many moans and sighs of lust and desire assailed me from behind, but I didn't hear my brother's voice.   
  
Complete penetration came shortly afterward. Two new "fresh" young slaves were brought in, these more handsome than any of the others. One was blonde and lithe. The other had reddish-brown hair similar to mine. I swallowed as best I could. Alex had obviously planned this little performance. Mirror images of what he wanted to do to me. And it was unbelievably erotic to watch as the blonde bent the other down on his knees then lubed him well, stretching his opening in preparation. I watched entranced as he began to fist his own thick member with slow, even stokes, coating it well with the lube. Finally he was ready. Placing the head of his penis to the entrance, he pushed in very slowly. 


	8. Part VIII

Without warning I was dragged forward and my head was shoved down close to the penetration. I struggled for several moments but was unable to push myself away from the slaves. I watched in close painful proximity as the cock drove deeper and deeper into the other body. The scent of sex wafted past my nostrils as they flaired, trying to take a good breath. With a soft moan from above me, the testicles of the penetrating slave met the buttocks of the other slave. Then he pulled out quickly. A few thrusts later and suddenly the hand holding my head was pulled roughly away. I fell back on my rear and then scrambled back even further when I saw Alex crack the guard across his face. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He yelled.   
  
The insolent man rubbed his jaw as a small trickle of blood ran from his corner of his mouth. Shrugging his shoulders he said, "Thought he might enjoy it more up close and personal."   
  
My brother looked about ready to hit him again. "Get the FUCK out of here! You're only screwing things up!" The guard turned on his heel muttering something. "And don't think Remy's not going to hear about this!" Alex shouted after the departing back. Shaking his head, he walked over to me and crouched down. Wary, I flinched away. But he took me into his arms.   
  
"Sorry, bro. Some of the guards don't particularly like babysitting pleasure slaves." He soothed, hugging me tightly. "I wish I could stop now, but his actions might put your training behind. You're doing okay, though. Just relax and watch." His hand drifted very lightly over my throbbing cock. "Just watch."   
  
The two slaves who'd been interrupted by the incident, quickly recovered and picked up from where they left off. I glared at the exhibition in front of me, anger strenthening my will for the moment. But as the slave penetrating the other reached down and began to stroke his partner's prick with a powerful loving caress, Alex opened the ring around my penis and copied the image in front of us. My eyes went wide and all feelings of anger vanished as I thrust violently against his firm grip, almost throwing my hip out of socket. In three strokes I came, crying out in pleasure that bordered on pain. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest from the fury of my release and I thought I would die from the orgasm. It seemed to go on forever.   
  
But too soon it was over and I was trembling in my brother's arms in the afterglow. His breath rang soothingly against my ear, his words warm and kind. "Shhh...Scott. There...You did good. You've done really well. Shhh..." And on and on he went until I relaxed into him, feeling his own penis twitching hard against my spine. 


	9. Part IX

I lay there for a long glorious time in my brother's arms, my cock limp from release, my eyes still ordered to focus on the ongoing sexual performances in front of me. The threat of the penile ring being replaced lingered over me as it sat discarded next to Alex's thigh. Two more slaves came to fuck in front of us. Then three were brought in together. And after each session the slaves were allowed to join their fellow performers behind me, to indulge in whatever act of debauchery they pleased. Moans and grunts, sighs and gasps filled the room. And occasionally a scream or plea arose from the poor shackled offender, as one or two of the crueler slaves went to torment him.   
  
I was lost in the sight and sounds and smells of sex. My will to resist was beginning to fracture under the onslaught of this desensitization. Yet Alex wasn't nearly swayed by my pacifity. He knew me too well.   
  
At first he only held me, and I thrilled in his embrace, astonished at my own feelings. It felt as if I lay in my lover's arms, warm and protected. Desperately I tried not to think of Jean, and for the most part succeeded. He was only my brother, my lover. Even the heat of his erection, tightly pressed against my back was comforting. He was controlling his own urges.   
  
But as the minutes wore on his hands began to explore my fettered body. A hand would brush a nipple and tease it into hardness. He'd still himself for a few minutes after he'd accomplished this small goal. Then his lips would dip down upon my shoulder, drawing a shudder out of me. And his hands would begin to tease again. But while my groin responded to his touch, he'd never wrap his fingers around my cock.   
  
Instead, when the last threesome came to their mutual climax, Alex looked up from a nip to my earlobe. Telling the two dominate slaves to join the others, he huskily invited the third to crawl over and pleasure me. My eyes widened in disbelief as the slave smiled, genuinely pleased. Slow and erotic, like some sleek panther, he came toward me on his hands and knees, licking his lips in anticipation of my taste. I began to tremble with my own desire.   
  
He was gorgeous. Long and delicately boned, lean, yet powerful, his blue-black shoulder length hair hung sweat slick around his face. His eyes were obsidian, bright under long black feminine lashes nearly closed in naked lust. His skin was an unmarred silky olive and my fingers curled in an involuntary longing to touch that perfect flesh. When he was finally between my legs, his seductive smile broke into an irrepresible grin showing perfect white teeth.   
  
"Gift of Allah." He breathed in a low Middle Eastern accent. And I notice around his long neck he wore a simple leather collar, not the inhibitor my brother and I had. He was human. In fact, I realized suddenly that all the slaves who'd been paraded in front of me had worn only simple collars. None of them were mutant apparently.   
  
Thoughts fled instantly as he bent down then and licked the head of my penis. I nearly exploded, senses engulfed by the eroticism. I thrust my hips up, bending my legs to place my feet flat on the ground for extra leverage. I wanted in that mouth. But he continued to only tease me, running his long pink tongue over and around and down my hardened shaft. After he had bathed it well with his saliva, he took both testicles in his mouth, also moistening them thoroughly, jiggling them around playfully with his tongue. It was a wonder I didn't orgasm then and there. When my cock began to ooze its fluid, dripping an unusually large amount down toward the base, my pleasurer began a slow ascent up the flesh with his tongue, finally taking me between his lips. Down he went as I thrust up violently. Then my hips dropped back until he was able to wrap his tongue around the rosy head. I was close to cumming. I could feel the desire for release building up. I pushed my feet hard into the floor readying myself for the final thrust. So exquisite to be able to cum a second time.   
  
Suddenly Alex pushed the slave back hard and my cock popped from his mouth still enflamed to land heavy against my belly. With one swift sure motion, my brother snapped the torturous ring around the base of my penis. I howled in protest, incoherently pleading for him to release me, squirming and kicking in his arms. The stunned slave also began to protest. But Alex remained firm in his action and in his grip on me. Calmly he ordered my pleasure to join the others or face punishment. Under the threat, my sweet release ran to obey, but not before placing a soft kiss on my right foot.   
  
"Mutant. Gift of Allah." He murmured reverently.   
  
Against the familiar throb of pain, I heaved and gasped, throwing myself forward in Alex's arms trying to break his hold. "'O!" I cried, twisting in his grip.   
  
"Shh..." He spoke low and soothing in my ear. "You're not ready."   
  
After that, Alex said nothing. Just held me tightly until I finished struggling. A few tears of pain ran down my cheeks. I bit down hard into the rubber gag trying to grit my teeth and bite back the tears. I wanted to scream why, but already I knew what his answer would be. He couldn't trust me. I wasn't broken.   
  
Yet I felt defeated. Humiliated, I was beginning to notice the men, their beauty and grace, and unable to deny feeling sexually aroused. I was having thoughts that never would have occurred to me back home, safe in the mansion with my wife. I was wondering about a few of the slaves: what they would taste like, how would they kiss, what would it feel to have them deep inside me, could I take them all the way down my throat. Images came unbidden and unwanted to my mind. And the harder I tried to force them away, the harder they clutched at my consciousness. I saw myself down on all fours being taken from behind while sucking eagely on a cock. I was shackled to the wall unable to stop the men from touching me, using me, sucking on my flesh. The desensitization was affecting me, breaking down the walls of my inhibitions. I knew I couldn't last much longer, and some sad part of me, I realized, didn't care anymore.   
  
As my breathing slowed and the familiar throb of the ring began to dull, it dawned on me that the parade of slaves had stopped. The sounds of passion from behind continued, but I was no longer being forced to watch them fuck. I closed my eyes for a moment, amazed I had held them open during this torment. I fully expected Alex's hand to drop in warning, but it never came. My eyes closed tighter and I sighed through flaring nostrils.   
  
Several minutes passed before my brother finally spoke, and my heart froze in my chest at his words.   
  
"You must be hungry."   
  
I shook my head violently. Not now. He couldn't ask me to do this now after what I'd just been through. But he pushed me up to my knees determined, ignoring my pleading look and the swinging of my head in negation.   
  
Rising to his feet, Alex moved around in front of me, his eyes hooded, his cock fully engorged. He needed his own release. I continued to protest, my eyes still begging for reprieve, when I saw a movement in my periphery. Some of the slaves were stirring, coming over to watch.   
  
I panicked. He couldn't make me do this. Not in front of the other men. Throwing myself backward, I began pushing away from him, kicking out as he came closer, still pleading with my eyes and shaking my head furiously. Some of the slaves began to laugh, a few even jeered. And then two powerful men stepped behind me, grabbing my arms and pulling me to my knees. Oddly enough they were gentle, sidestepping my kicks and never lashing out themself. But when I felt a soft run of fingers down my back and a tender brush of lips against my neck, I struggled more fiercely, nearly dislodging the two men holding me and almost dislocating a shoulder in the process.   
  
I wasn't going to give into this. This sexual craving, this mindless pleasure they wanted to evoke in me. It was wrong my mind screamed as my body tried to obey. And to make me do this in front of others. I couldn't take it. I wouldn't. I howled incoherently against the bit. And when I saw Alex hesitate, I howled even more, wanting to scream myself mute. I would not give in to their tenderness. *Use the collar*, I thought perversely. Give me pain. I could take that. I could take that kind of humiliation. I could use it to withstand this conditioning. To keep my will intact and to never give into Remy. But this kindness, this soft touch and warm gesture. It could be my undoing. I had to fight it, because it would change me, it would break me more completely into what Remy wanted.   
  
"Gift of Allah." It was my beautiful one, my sweet pleasurer. "Grace us, mutant." The word mutant was never a curse on his lips. He adored me. And I hesitated at his words. I was breathing hard. I closed my eyes tightly, trying again to bite down. Then I tried to howl again, but it came as a croak and I coughed and retched. A hand slapped my back lightly. "Please. Please, grace us. Allah will look favorably on us." I shook my head as I tried to calm the choking. No. NO! I wouldn't do give into this. I squeezed tears of pain and fury from my eyes, keeping my head down.   
  
And then a quiet chanting began. "Gift of Allah, Gift of the gods, grace us, grace us." On and on. Different languages, different names of dieties spoken, but in general the same message: Gift of God, grace us." I looked around in disbelief, my mind in a whirl. The three surrounding me suddenly stepped back and I looked up to see Alex wave his hand at the group to quiet their voices. Then he stepped towards me and bent down.   
  
Taking my face between his hands, holding it firmly as I attempted to pull away forcefully, he said gently, "See what they think of you, Scott. They idolize you. They think it's a blessing for them to watch." For a moment I starred at him, disoriented and a little afraid. Then I shook my head 'no' again. But Alex persisted. "Favor them, Scott. They'll be a much kinder audience than any other you'll be ordered to perform for.   
  
The shock of this statement ended my resistance. Of course Remy would want to show me off. Like some prized object, he'd parade me in front of his peers and command me to perform like some circus animal. Once I was broken and fully trained he'd want to show off my skills. Maybe even give private performances for a few of his closest friends. I hung my head, humiliated.   
  
Alex wouldn't have my dejection. He lifted my chin, running his thumb along my bottom lip. "Don't worry. I'm sure I'll be with you for every performance. We're a matching set: Remy's brothers." This didn't bring me much comfort and I glared at him. From where I stood, or rather knelt, who the sub would be was pretty obvious.   
  
Ignoring my look, Alex placed a tender kiss on my forehead and stood up, guiding himself to my mouth. I didn't back away, but knelt there letting him in and digging my nails into my palms breaking the skin in several places. But then his pre-cum oozed onto my tongue and I was lost in the need to quench my thirst and stop the churning of my hunger pangs.   
  
The room grew still and quiet. All the slaves had stopped to watch me feed. But I heard little except the slurp of my tongue and a grunt from my brother. And in no time at all his sperm filled my belly.   
  
When his final shudder passed and he pulled his softening cock from between my lips, the men began to clap and cheer, shouting their delight. Some clapped me on the back, while others praised me saying how blessed they were and that fortune did indeed smile on Remy's palace. A look from my brother finally silenced them and they all began to drift away, back to their own play.   
  
Drawing me to my feet, Alex led me over to the sunken area in the middle of the room. Still not saying a word he helped me down among the pillows and pulled me into his arms, lying back into the softness. My head rested on his chest, my belly pressed down between his legs. Softly he began to stroke my back, my arms, my rear. His touches were feather-light and comforting. Tears stung my lids and I fought them back, not wanting him to see my weakness. But then he noticed the tears on the palms of my hands. Small spots of dried blood covered them where I'd sunken my nails into the flesh. He kissed the wounds tenderly and called for one of the slaves to bring a wet cloth. Then he gently, carefully cleaned the blood away and I swallowed, unable to hold back my pain any longer. Quiet and sweet, laying a kiss on my forehead, Alex began to croon.   
  
"Rest, Scott. You've done so well. Rest, just sleep. You're safe. No more tonight. No more..." Lulled by the warmth of his arms and his words I drifted, vaguely aware that someone had handed him a brush and he was running it through my hair, his lips just a breath away from my brow. Just like I use to do to Jean. Jean. When I dropped off to sleep my dreams were full of her beauty and love. 


	10. Part X

I awoke on my side, curled up against my brother, unable to tell how long I'd been asleep. I felt better. Almost content. The light in the room had dimmed even further as the candles melted down to nothing. Sounds of sex still echoed occasionally as I lay there quietly listening. None of the slaves it seemed had left. And I also heard the sounds of satisfied slumber.   
  
Then I came fully awake as I noticed something else. My arms were free and wrapped tightly around Alex's waist. And the bit was gone as well. I popped my jaw twice and ran my dry tongue around my mouth, trying to get any moisture I could. I pushed back alittle to bring a hand up, rubbing the stiffness in my jaw away. And when I opened my eyes for the first time, my brother was watching me, smiling with amusement and affection.   
  
"How long?" I croaked, my voice hoarse and my throat painfully dry. Alex placed a finger against my lips to stop me from straining my vocal cords further. Then he gently coaxed my head forward to place a soft kiss on my mouth, offering his own moisture. He licked my lips, encouraging them to open. And I obeyed immediatedly, unable to resist the temptation. I pulled his tongue in deep, drinking all he had to give. When he pulled away I moaned at the loss.   
  
"There's more, Scotty. More you can have, if you're willing." I sighed, knowing what he meant. Alex brushed a lock of my hair back behind an ear with his fingers. "Come on Scott. You know you can't win. Do it...for me. And I'll let you have some water." I cocked my eyebrow up suspicious. But he gave a sharp nodd with a mischevious grin. "Honest. Real water."   
  
"Fuck." I sat up and looked at his cock bobbing slightly against his stomach as he shifted onto his back. It began to harden under my gaze as if it already knew I'd give in.   
  
"Why don't you fight this, Alex?" I asked looking back at his face.   
  
He sighed, lifting up on his elbows. "I've already told you. He's won. He's used my weakness against me."   
  
I shook my head. "I can't believe that! You're stronger than this! Stronger than..."   
  
"No!" Alex cut me off sharply and I heard the bitterness in his voice. "I'm not that strong. And neither are you." He turned his head away and plucked thoughtfully at a pillow. I watched him saying nothing. Finally he looked back at me. "I've tried. I've come up with every possible plan to escape. But he's a thief. A thief, Scott. He's one step ahead. Always. He's already conceived every plan I've ever come up with, so he already has it countered." Alex ran a finger across the rim of his collar. "I can't get close to anything that could cut this off without taking my head. And while Remy gives me a good deal of freedom in this castle given the circumstance, the collar has a locating device. And a program to activate if I step off the grounds.   
  
He grew silent, brooding.   
  
"What about the portal?" I suggested. "Can you go through it?"   
  
"I never tried." He replied.   
  
"Are you saying no one's ever told you what would happen?" I frowned. Surely there'd be rules for us, things we were told we couldn't do and why.   
  
Alex rubbed his forehead in irritation. "No one tells me anything. Most of what I found out about this place I found out the hard way."   
  
"But..." I began.   
  
"No!" He barked through gritted teeth, causing me to flinch back. "I'm not getting out of here. Period. The best I can hope for is that he'll get tired of me and let me go home. Same goes for you." He looked at me hard as he made this last remark, then his eyes sparked in anger. "Now do you want that water or do I have to put the bit back in?"   
  
"Fuck." Came my instant reply. Then, "Will you take this fucking ring off?"   
  
His eyes softened, but he shook his head. "You're just not ready. You've got a lot to learn and I don't have much time." I dropped my head, turning it away from him and closed my eyes in disgust. I felt a hand come down on my neck and shoulder. "But if you cooperate, maybe I'll release it for a while today. Let you pee on your own."   
  
  
  
I didn't open my eyes then, or respond for several minutes. Finally I inhaled with another curse, "Fuck", and bent to lick the tip of Alex's cock just as I'd seen my beautiful one do. Some of the men began to move closer to watch. I flushed, still extremely uncomfortable being observed having sex, let alone giving head. But I kept at my task, taking Alex's testicles between my fingers squeezing them gently. *This is my brother. This is my brother. This is my brother.* rang over and over in my head. But I kept licking, coaxing, teasing his penis stiff, watching with some satisfaction, as the blood filled his shaft making it heavy. And hot. So hot I felt as if I'd burnt my tongue. Then a tiny drop of fluid oozed up from the head of the shaft and I was lost in the need. Pavlov's well-trained dog. I pulled him into my mouth sucking hard to draw more fluid out of him. My brother gasped and my eyes shot up to look at his face. He'd put his hands behind his head and his eyes were shut. His face bore an expression of ecstasy which suddenly twisted into rage.   
  
"Teeth!" He hissed.   
  
It took a while for him to release. I needed a good deal of instruction on how to give head. But finally I   
  
found my rhythm and soon after he exploded in my mouth with a grunt of satisfaction. This time I could savor his taste. I held the head of his penis gently between my lips pulling out every bit he could give. Then, as I let go his limp cock, I sat back, rolling the juice around with my arid tongue, moistening every inch of my mouth before swallowing. I had to admit it tasted wonderful after being dry for so long.   
  
Alex lay quietly in the same position, on his back with his arms behind his head. His breath was slow and even and his eyes were closed. He wore a slight satisfied grin. It took me a moment to realize he was asleep. I had to smile, wondering what Lorna must have thought of him, dozing off so fast. I looked at him for a few minutes actually admiring his beauty, so soft and vulnerable in sleep, until I realized he had promised me water. As I moved to prod him awake I was interrupted from a soft whisper above.   
  
"Asleep." It was my pleasure.   
  
"Yeah." I replied turning to look up at him.   
  
He smiled at me brightly as he crawled down next to me. "Tired. He stayed awake watching you most of the night.   
  
I frowned. "He did?"   
  
The slave's grin broadened and he nodded. "I would do the samething, Gift of Allah." His hand flashed out then to pluck one of my nipples, gently tugging it hard with his fingers. Startled I pulled away from him sitting back on my hands, nervous but undeniably aroused.   
  
"Why do you call me that?"   
  
He leaned into me then, his body stretched across mine, his lips inches from my lips. "Because you are a mutant. You have great power. God does not give that gift to everyone." I blinked. Such a strange revelation from a human after living in a world that hated and feared mutants.   
  
"Where are you from?" I asked, curious.   
  
"Pakistan."   
  
"From earth? My earth?" I wasn't certain if this Alternate Universe had parallel countries.   
  
"Yes. The hunters came for a mutant in our village. Khalid could make things dance without touching them." Telekinetic I assumed. "One of the hunters saw me and thought I would make a good gift for my master." His hand came back up as he said this and began sliding down my chest. He bent his head to watch the movement and I thought he was going to take a nipple between his teeth. I didn't fall back from his hand this time, but I wasn't certain about letting him go further so I asked, "Remy?"   
  
He looked up with a seductive smile. "Yes. He was happy with me for a time. But he needs his own kind. Ones with power. You are honored to be taken. You will be well loved."   
  
I narrowed my eyes in irritation taking his hand away. "It's an honor to be a slave? To be forced into sex with another man? It's rape."   
  
"Perhaps. At first," He cocked his head still smiling, "you might think that. But a few nights with my master and you will be...content."   
  
I turned my head and snorted in disgust. "So I've been told." Then I looked up at him still holding his hand away. "Is that what happened to you?"   
  
He nodded. "For five nights I was taken to his bed. I fought the first night. But then I realized how good it was here. I come from a poor family. Somedays I didn't eat. Here you get three meals a day."   
  
Alex stirred beside me suddenly and I looked over holding my breath, anxious that he might wake up. I had the feeling this slave might get into trouble talking to me, let alone touching me. My brother only turned on his side away from us and began to snore softly. Looking up, I scanned the room. There weren't any guards present and most of the others had fallen back to sleep, not interested in me now that I wasn't servicing Alex. I relaxed a little and looked up at my beautiful one. Keeping my voice low I asked, "What's your name?"   
  
"Zaki." He replied. "But here they call me Neil."   
  
Neil, as in Neil Shaara, I realized, aka Thunderbird. One of the newest X-men. It fit. Both men were dark headed with olive skin. I began to tell Zaki I liked his given name better, but he silenced me with a searing kiss.   
  
"No more talking," he said as he broke away. "We do not have much time. And I wish to finish what I started." Running his fingernails lightly down my belly, it quivered in response and I nodded in understanding, still dazed from his bruising kiss. Zaki smiled, pushing me down into the pillows and captured a nipple with his teeth. I arched my back and moaned. But more than anything he was doing right now, I wanted that ring off my cock.   
  
"Take it off." I whispered a bit too harshly, even moving my hand down towards my groin.   
  
He stopped my hand. "Patience, mutant," came his whispered response. But his tongue began to move quicker down my chest and belly, closer to the source of his desire.   
  
"What the hell?!" Alex was awake, pulling up on his elbows and shaking the sleep from his eyes. Coming fully awake he shoved Zaki away from me and got to his feet calling for the guards.   
  
"No." Zaki said quietly, sadly. "Please master. I am sorry." No crying or groveling. He knew that in that moment Alex could spare him from punishment. But he had a quiet dignity. My brother swung around narrowing his eyes in anger.   
  
"Come on, Alex." I said standing to face my brother. "It's my fault. He came over to watch me...and you fell asleep...so I asked him to..."   
  
"Don't lie to me, Scott." Alex turned his hard look on me. "You wouldn't initiate any of this. Even to get that ring off."   
  
"Please. I am sorry." Zake said again. "He is so handsome. I wanted to please him. I am sorry." His eyes were so sincere in their sadness, I inhaled sharply. I was close to tears at the feelings I saw in those eyes. Regret, longing, need. Despite having a 'good' life here as a pleasure slave, Zaki was lonely.   
  
"Alex," I said not taking my eyes off Zaki. "There's no harm done. Can't you let it go?"   
  
I heard him sigh and saw him rub his forehead with one hand. He wasn't cruel. He wouldn't like having to punish one of the slaves. But Zaki's action might have overstepped even his limits. Finally he looked down at the remorseful, lonely man.   
  
"You know he's in training?" Zaki nodded.   
  
"I told him he couldn't have the ring taken off. He's not ready." Another nod.   
  
"You could have done some damage here, ruined the training, put it behind schedule. You know that?"   
  
"I did not think..." Zaki started but Alex interrupted him.   
  
"No. You didn't think. And this could have gotten my brother punished further."   
  
Zaki's face grew pale and his eyes wide. "But he is special. He is a Gift of Allah. Surely one such as him would never be punished."   
  
Alex shook his head. "Do you think he wants to be here? Do you think this training isn't a punishment for him? He'd have to go back in the stocks."   
  
I shuddered. "It wouldn't have gotten to that point." I said.   
  
"No?" Alex looked at me. "This is behavior modification, Scott. Sensory depravation and sensory overload. Everything I do to you is done for a specific reason at a specific time. If the plan is altered in anyway I may as well start over." I looked at him in surprise. I never knew he understood psychology. That had never been his field. But I understood the ramifications. I'd been taught it by the professor to enhance my leadership abilities.   
  
"But you..."   
  
He silenced me. "Shut up and let me talk to Neil."   
  
"Zaki." I muttered under my breath.   
  
Alex snapped a look at me but said nothing. Then he looked back at Zaki. "I'm not sure about letting this go unpunished. You should have known better." Just then one of the guards entered. I had to wonder what took them so long. Had they really heard my brother or was this just a chance encounter, one of the guards coming to relay a message to him.   
  
Obviously, they'd heard him call, because the guard said, "What do you want, slave?" That determined my brother's decision.   
  
"Nothing." He said with a glare to the guard. "Just a misunderstanding. But since you're here, take this slave back to his room." Alex pulled Zaki to his feet and handed him over to the guard. "I'll speak to you later, Neil."   
  
"Has he done something?" The guard asked, suspicious.   
  
"It's none of your concern. I'll deal with this problem." My brother saw the doubt cross the guard's face so he added, "Do you want to take this up with Remy? I'm sure he'll be glad to hear that you had a problem with one of my decisions."   
  
The guard starred back a moment or two in anger and then grabbed Zaki's arm roughly and pulled him out of the room. As my pleasure went by me he smiled weakly calling me Gift of Allah one last time. 


	11. Part XI

"Alex." I began when Zaki'd gone.   
  
My brother turned and looked at me coldly.   
  
"Well, what did you expect?" I said as if answering an unspoken question. "You think I'm just going to cooperate that easily?"   
  
He looked down, shaking his head. "No. I guess not. But I didn't think you'd respond to a man's attention this quickly." He looked a little puzzled and scratched his chin. "The training must be working faster than I anticipated." My eye began to twitch in annoyance.   
  
"You think I'm that easily broken, then?" I asked through clenched teeth.   
  
"No. No. It could be the way you were trained under Xavier, to be a good soldier. To obey orders without question. I'm sure the professor taught you using some behavior modification." He turned away for a minute as I scowled at his back. *Good little soldier. Good little slave*. Well I wasn't going to be that easy to break. I still had some will left. I'd get the hell out of here at the first opportunity. With or without Alex. "   
  
Just then Alex turned back with a smirk. "Or maybe you just have a crush on Neil."   
  
"Zaki." I replied immediately without thinking. "His name is Zaki, Alex."   
  
Alex broke into a grin. "You do have a crush on him!" His eyes widened in surprise at his revelation and he muttered to himself looking to the side. "This won't help."   
  
That was it. Bad enough to have to endure all this 'training'. Bad enough to have my inhibitions torn apart and my mind reprogrammed like Pavlov's dog. Even worse to be tormented by the penile device and forced to suck cock. But now for Alex to mock me, childishly, like I was a high school kid, all raging hormones and silly little infatuations. I flew at him, taking him unaware and knocking him across the floor. And just like in those days before the orphanage, before the plane exploded shattering my life afterward, we were two brothers tussling around on the ground, arms and legs flailing. And just like the brothers we'd been, Alex was laughing pushing at me half-heartedly and I was all seriousness, getting even angrier at his laughter. He use to be very good at pushing my buttons and loved to see just how hard he could push. It was all really silly, and I wasn't trying very hard to hurt Alex. The slaves around us, sensing the release of pent-up emotions, gathered to watch, cheering on one or the other.   
  
But then it turned ugly. So many days of this torment. So many days of being forced to do things I'd never have agreed to. Never would have wanted. The anxiety of what was coming. The anger I held at my own helplessness and Alex's unwillingness to fight with me, to at least try to escape. All this came boiling up to the surface and when I found myself on top of him with my hands around his throat I began to sqeeze. Harder and harder. He grabbed my arms trying to pull them away. But the rage I felt made me stronger. His lips came together tight in terror. His eyes bulged, then he gasped trying to say something. But I couldn't see his face through the haze of anger. The collar was pushed up roughly against his chin and a small gash appeared where a jagged part cut deeply into the flesh of his jawline.   
  
Some of the slaves, realizing suddenly how deadly the fight had turned, grabbed at me. It took several moments and more men joining in, but finally they were able to pull me off my brother. I flung a few of them off me, my fists coming up to connect with one or two jaws. I chopped down on one poor fellow almost crushing his throat. My mind was in a haze of anger. I barely saw Alex come up on one elbow heaving and retching. One of the men knelt down next to him offering support and whispering something to him, looking at me as I fought the men restraining me, intent on finishing what I had started. More slaves came to aid the others and finally seven of them had me down on the floor, arms and legs pressed roughly into the carpet, one of the men sitting squarely on my chest.   
  
"No!" He rasped and held an arm up, waving a hand at me. "Just hold him!"   
  
After he'd caught his breath, Alex stood up wiping the blood from his chin and approached me warily. I was still struggling, still furious. It crossed my mind briefly if this was how Logan felt in one of his beserker rages. But then Alex bent over me and slapped me hard across the face deflating my fury. I blinked and lay back quietly.   
  
"I'm sorry, Scott." Alex spoke first, quickly, knowing I'd blame myself for my loss of control. "I shouldn't have said what I said."   
  
"No." I agreed. "You really know how to piss me off sometimes." He smiled slightly with a chuckle. "But I almost killed you. I wanted to..." I continued for a moment then stopped, hanging my head. This still wasn't his fault. None of this. He didn't deserve to die.   
  
He motioned to the slaves holding me down and they got to their feet taking me with them. Two of the stronger men continued to hold my arms, not trusting me to stay calm. No one said anything for a long moment, then Alex spoke, quietly, "I don't think I would have minded that much."   
  
I looked up at him in shock and horror. "Shut up!" I yelled. I pulled against the men still holding me. "You shut up! Don't you dare say that! Don't you dare leave me here alone!" He stepped back in surprise at my vehemence. Then he took a step forward and pulled me into his arms.   
  
"Okay." He whispered. "Okay, Scotty." I could feel his tears on my cheek and I pulled him tighter to me, clinging to him as if my life depended on it, ignoring the pain in my groin as I pressed against him.   
  
"We're in this together." I whispered back. "We'll find a way..." Then he was kissing me forcefully, desperately, and I responded to his pain. I know, looking back on it, he didn't want me to finish my sentence. He needed me there, but he didn't want my hope. He'd been down that road. Now all that was left to him was his acceptance and my presence. Nothing else.   
  
In that moment, I began to see a purpose in all of this ordeal. I was here to protect Alex. I could never have bore his death, especially if he'd taken his own life. So I'd stay and we'd help each other survive. And maybe we'd find a way out together. 


	12. Part XII

After Alex broke the kiss, he stepped back looking a little embarrassed and turned away. I smiled at his sudden shyness. But I imagine, like me he didn't want to show weakness. Hadn't wanted to me to see him cry.   
  
The other slaves looked from me to him, puzzled and nervous. Finally Alex looked up, noticing the other men. "Go back to your quarters." He told them. "We'll pick this up tonight." Most of them grinned, and a few slapped me on my back making lewd, but not unkind comments. Several of them just passed a hand across me as if I were some lucky talisman. A few "Gift of Allah, Gift of God." were said quietly. I smiled, oddly touched by their continued reverence, not thinking I was worthy of it, but touched all the same.   
  
For a long while I just stood there, after the others had gone, looking at my brother, not sure what to say. He seemed pensive, uncertain himself. But then I remembered what he'd promised me.   
  
"Water." I started with a croak. I cleared my throat and said, "You said I could have some water, Alex."   
  
He swung towards me and cocked an eyebrow. "You think you deserve it after you almost killed me?" Back to the master role. Reward and punishment, and I felt scared suddenly, and depressed. I'd been seriously looking forward to the water, I realized.   
  
I swallowed. "But that doesn't have anything to do with..." There was a desperate pleading in my tone and Alex chuckled, shaking his head.   
  
"It's okay, Scott." He said cutting me off. "I'm kidding. You can have some water."   
  
I sighed, closing my eyes. I couldn't believe how afraid I'd sounded, like a six year old who's mom had promised him the newest Power Ranger and then suddenly decided he couldn't have it. But I was going to get the water and relief washed through me.   
  
Alex stepped around me to the door and called for one of the slaves. I was a bit puzzled at this point. Where were the guards? Wasn't one standing outside? Why hadn't they come during the fight? When Alex came back to me, I asked him these questions.   
  
He looked at me suspiciously. "They're around." He answered vaguely. I was about to ask him what he meant by that when one of the slaves, Bert, or was it Ernie, came in with a plastic water bottle. The question flew from my thoughts as I focused on that bottle. I considered for a moment the surrealism of it. Such a modern, simple object in such an antiquated place. I smiled for a moment. Then I reached for the bottle.   
  
Alex stopped me. "No, Scott. Kneel down." I looked at him puzzled and irritated. And then I looked back at the slave holding the water. There was no point in arguing if I wanted to get that drink. With an exasperated sigh I dropped to my knees.   
  
"You've got to go easy." Alex told me, ignoring an obvious sign of disrespect. "It's been awhile and your stomach's not going to be use to the water."   
  
"Just give it to me." I muttered. Then I gave him one of my most endearing smiles when he frowned down at me. "Please Master." He snorted.   
  
"Funny, Scott. Real cute." Alex took the bottle in one hand and tilted my head back with his other. "Don't try that on Remy though. I don't believe he'd think it was quite as cute as I do." Placing the tip of the bottle to my lips he said, "Drink."   
  
I sucked down hard on the plastic tip and swallowed my first taste of water in days. Pure, fresh water. It was better than any drink I'd ever had. I wanted it all. I grabbed the water bottle, covering Alex's hands with my own, holding it firmly to my mouth. He tried to pull it back saying, "Go easy, Scott. I mean it. You'll get sick." But I wasn't listening. I just kept drinking greedily, gulping it down in large mouthfuls. A last drink for a dying man. And how good it tasted. How sweet and marvelous. Like magic to my mouth and tongue. I heard Alex chuckle. " **Your** stomach then. Don't say I didn't warn you." And he let go, letting me have it all.   
  
In a minute I was finished, shaking the bottle over my tongue trying to get every drop. And a minute later the first cramp hit me like a kick in the belly. I doubled over onto my hands and everything I'd drank down came back up with a vengence. My throat burned as I heaved and I choked and I sputtered, fluid running out of my nose, tears streaming down my face. And Alex was there, stroking my back, holding my arm. He didn't laugh, he didn't mock, but he did have smile on his face.   
  
"I warned you." Was all he said.   
  
When my stomach had settled, I sat back on my knees and wiped my mouth. I looked at Alex smiling at me and immediately I asked, "Can I have some more?"   
  
He laughed. "You gonna go a little slower this time?"   
  
I nodded intently. "I swear. Please." My look was pleading, I knew, but I didn't care. He nodded and told the slave to go fill the bottle. Alex put an arm around my shoulder and pulled me to my feet. I swayed unsteadily, weak from the loss of fluid, but he held my waist firmly and led me toward the bathroom.   
  
"Come on. I don't want to have to kiss that mouth." He said pleasantly. Inside the bathroom he gave me a toothbrush and toothpaste. I could have sworn I was in Heaven. I brushed my mouth thoroughly and rinsed until he stopped me. I was taking handfuls of water to my mouth. "I've warned you, Scott. You'll only make yourself sick again." Then wonder of wonders he unclamped the penile device and let me urinate. I  **knew**  I was in Heaven.   
  
Leading me back into the other room, he said, "I'll leave it off until you drink your water. But then it has to go back on." I nodded. The slave stood there nervously holding the bottle. Alex again ordered me to kneel down. This time I let my arms stay at my side as he place the tip to my lips. This time I let him control how much I could drink. And this time my stomach didn't rebel.   
  
When I'd finished, Alex handed the bottle back to the slave and told him to clean up the mess I'd made. Then he retrieved the leash he'd long discarded and snapped it back on my collar. Taking my hand he led me back through the slave quarters, then up a spiral staircase, down a hall to a small bedroom. All it held was a twin bed, a small table with a lamp, and a chair.   
  
Sitting down at the head of the bed with his back up against the wall, he pulled me into his arms. "This is where I stay when Remy doesn't need me." I nodded. His hand came down on my penis then and he began to slowly work it to hardness. I swallowed, knowing what was coming, but I didn't fight it. He nibbled at an earlobe, then worked his tongue across my neck, until he came to the other shoulder and bit down gently. I moaned unable to help myself, and placed my hand on his, moving with his rhythm.   
  
"Like that." He whispered, voice dripping with lust. Then he said, I think to himself, "Maybe. Just this once." I turned my head, puzzled and he kissed the corner of my mouth. Then his hand came away from my groin and he turned me to face him. Pulling me into a passionate kiss, Alex laved my mouth with his tongue. This time he drew  **my**  tongue into his mouth and began to suckle it until I was writhing, thrusting against him.   
  
"Take me in your mouth." He said as he let go my tongue. I looked at him, a little dazed, but then I lowered my lips to his erection. Alex inhaled sharply. I didn't try to think. Didn't try to reason. Just reacted to the pleasure. He slid down the bed to lie flat and I turned my body to follow his motions, stretching beside him, still holding his cock and wrapping my tongue around it. My own hardness was near his face and his hand returned to play with it. He kneeded my balls with his other hand. I shuddered at the touch and sucked him harder, deeper into my mouth. I was hoping he'd take me in his own mouth, but he just continued to stroke, rubbing hard along the underside and the perineum. It was enough, and I came in his hand, swallowing him down, murmuring his name, till he shot into my throat. I held both his buttocks in my hand firmly as he spasmed and came. Even after the water he tasted nice.   
  
I cleaned him thoroughly, afterward, bathing his limp cock with my tongue, until he rolled me onto my back and placed his hand over my mouth. "Drink." He ordered with a quick kiss to my lips. I obeyed without hesitation. Opening my mouth he dribbled my cooling seed over my tongue. When most of it had gone down, I reached for his hand and, imitating what I'd seen him do the first day I'd arrived here, I drew each finger down into my mouth and sucked it clean. Then I kissed the palm clean too.   
  
  
  
When I'd finished my task, Alex pulled me to him, resting my head on his chest. "That was nice, Scott. Really nice. You're learning." His voice sounded weary and he yawned. "I'll put the ring on later."   
  
"Thanks." I whispered and placed a kiss on his chest. Then we drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other's arms.   
  
The rest of the week went by quickly. I did what he told me. During the day, I was taken back to the 'play room' and he'd instruct me in sex. How to give head, sensual massage, different terminology so I understood exactly what Remy commanded me to do. Everything a slave was expected to learn I was taught and either I demonstrated my understanding on Alex or I explained it to him. There were certain things that I couldn't demonstrate at the time. I could not be penetrated. That was Remy's priviledge.   
  
But I fought Alex on one issue for awhile. Then I simply tried to stall. Rimming. I couldn't bring myself to do this. It seemed so sickening at first. I don't think I could have performed it on Jean. I even argued the point of learning it. Surely Remy would never let me penetrate him. I thought it was too humiliating. I was sure it denoted the submissive. But Alex just told me he liked it sometimes. Eventually I gave in. And like giving head I gagged for the first few times. It's amazing what a human can get use to. I can't say I ever came to enjoy it by itself, but when you add it into the overall scheme of things it's not that bad.   
  
At night, I went back to the slave quarters to watch the other men. Once or twice, when Alex felt it was the correct time and situation, he'd remove the ring. And I'd cum like I'd never had before. All that restraint and anticipation. I swear I'd have multiple orgasms. But then I'd be forced to lie in Alex's arms while one of the 'performers' sucked me back into hardness. And Alex would snap the device back on saying I still wasn't ready. I finally asked him when I would be ready and almost punched him when he told me it usually took a slave several months to learn how to control his release.   
  
One mercy Alex did grant was to take the ring of every so often so I could pee. Provided I never touched myself or released. This took some serious concentration on my part. But all I had to do was imagine that little red rubber catheter and I'd just relieve myself and nothing else. 


	13. Part XIII

So here I am now, back where I began my story, fervently lapping at my brother's cock, savoring his unique taste and wanting all his moisture, all his salty fluid to drink. And then I feel that lovely warmth and fuzzy bliss that is Remy Lebeau's power. It's a disorienting feeling that only makes you want him more, makes you want to please him in any and every way, and makes you forget any moral restriction you've ever had. I sucked even harder causing Alex to slap the top of my head and hissing, "Watch the teeth, Scott!"   
  
Remy strolled over chuckling and put his arms around Alex's waist saying something to him quietly. I couldn't hear, but it made my brother frown and slow his thrusting. Then he kissed him passionately. I never missed a beat. While my eyes rolled up to watch their interchange, I continued to fondle Alex's cock with my tongue, pulling it deep into my mouth to bring him to climax. I was hungry. The little bit of ejaculate at every feeding wasn't nearly enough to curb my hunger and only left me wanting more. It would have been better had I had nothing at all. The pains in my belly might have at least stopped. And every day Alex had decreased the number of feedings until he came about every four hours. Just enough to keep me painfully hungry. I was happy to see him and so eager to swallow him when he returned for 'meal time' that I usually just fell to my knees the moment he walked through the door. No preamble, no hesitation. I needed and wanted him in my mouth. He hardly seem to notice, or if he did he said nothing. He'd just pat me on the head, letting me take him in.   
  
Remy's fingers stroking through my hair roused me from my thoughts, but I never let go of Alex's cock. I couldn't be distracted. I was an obediant little slave.   
  
"Good boy." He murmured thoughtfully. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't look up. Then he said to Alex, "Looks like you done a fine job, cher."   
  
Suddenly his hand came down on my shoulder, pulling me back from my meal. "Dat's enough, petite."   
  
"No." I breathed, almost pushing my way back up to get at my brother. "Please..."   
  
Remy bent down to smile at me, not unkindly. "Kept ya hungry, eh?"   
  
My head dropped as I flushed in humiliation. "S'okay. I'll give ya food tonight, cher." I looked up quickly, suspicious. " _Real_  food." Remy promised with a wink. I wasn't sure whether to trust him or not so I dropped my eyes again. But then he drew me to my feet and placed a possessive arm around my waist saying, "Alex, I won't need you tonight."   
  
I looked over at my brother, half expecting an explosion as if I thought he believed he'd be invited to watch, perhaps even asked to join in. He merely nodded submissively. Remy gave my waist a quick squeeze. "Scott seems to be willing. Will he fight me, cher?"   
  
"No." Alex assured him. "He stopped fighting me days ago."   
  
"Bein. Go on back to de slave quarters till I call for you."   
  
Alex turned to go, but Remy stopped him short by saying, "Alex. You done well. You can 'ave one of the de slaves tonight, if you want."   
  
My brother looked back at him, eyes wide with uncertainty. "Anyone?"   
  
Remy gave him a benevolent smile. "Oui."   
  
Suddenly Alex's face beamed and he smiled brightly. He came back over to Remy and knelt down. His hands entered the luxurious top coat his master wore and I heard the faint unzipping of Remy's pants. Then Alex gently guided Remy's soft cock to his lips. Kissing it reverently he said, "Thank you, Master."   
  
As he returned the flesh back beneath the clothing, Remy tousled his hair playfully. "G'on. I may not need you for several days. You know how I am when I get a new toy."   
  
Alex gave a short bark of laughter and ran from the room. I'd been wondering about his sudden happiness and about the slave he'd choose tonight (he'd certainly seem to know which one he wanted), when it hit me that I was alone with Remy. The realization of what this meant, that I'd be alone in bed with this man, coerced to service him and offer my ass in submission for his pleasure, struck me like a slap across my face. I couldn't do it. I began to tremble slightly wishing dearly that Alex had stayed. Regardless of what he'd forced me to do, my brother had been my lifeline, my strength in a twisted kind of way, getting me through the pain of this whole ordeal with some kindness and brotherly concern. Now he was gone and I'd have to face this night alone. Tears burned in my eyes. I suppose I had assumed Alex would be there for my first time. I was wrong. All of a sudden I was the skinny little freak with the uncontrollable eyebeams watching my younger brother leave with his new adoptive family. I fought back the tears that threatened to spill even more. Remy wasn't going to see me cry. I swore to myself I'd never show him any weakness. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to stop the flow from starting.   
  
However, Remy could feel me shaking slightly, and sensing my distress, pulled me into a warm embrace, letting his power flow through me. His fingers brushed the back of my neck feather-light and he laid a soft kiss on my shoulder like a lover. "I...Remy..." I rasped unable to continue.   
  
"Hush, mon couer. It's gonna be okay. Trust your master, cher. Shhh..." His words were soothing and I relaxed into his arms. For a long time he held me saying nothing, just stroking my neck, my back, making me want him more and more.   
  
When I had stopped trembling under his influence, Remy stepped back holding my shoulders and massaging them firmly with his fingers. He cocked his head and smiled at me affectionately. I couldn't help but look back at him with a slight sad smile.   
  
"No more sadness, eh, mon choit?" Remy finally spoke. "Dis is your night, cher. Your wedding night, so to speak." He didn't chuckle at what might have been a joke. He seemed quiet, thoughtful, not wanting to laugh at my expense as if he really believed I was some beautiful prize he'd stolen and he really cared about the way I was treated. Still an object, but a very cherished one.   
  
One of his hands went up to brush a stray lock out of my eyes and then rested against my cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned into the hand as his tender gestures swam through my senses. "Remy..." I whispered, not sure of what I wanted to say. But he put a finger to my lips silencing anything else I might have said. Then he began to murmur, a mix of French, Cajun, and English as his eyes roamed my body in frank lust and appreciation. "Si beau, si beau..." His hands stroked down my arms sending shivers through me. Embarrassed by his openess, I flushed and he smiled even brighter. "De blushing bride." He said lifting my chin when I dropped it, awash in shame.   
  
"Not'ing to be embarrassed about, mon cher. I'll bind you tighter to me dan de love 'tween a man and his wife." My eyes narrowed in anger thinking he was mocking my love for Jean. I almost attacked him. But then the bliss of his power ran over me. "No, petit, you love Jeannie." He said to me as if reading my thoughts. "I don't doubt that. But in time you'll love me more."   
  
Then he captured my lips passionately and I lost all intent to fight him. Instead I opened my mouth in obeisance, letting his tongue taste me thoroughly, until finally I clamped my lips over his flesh and suckled ardently. I thrilled to hear him purr as he pulled me again into a sweet embrace. Somehow my cock didn't seem to throb quite so painfully as it pressed against his silken clothed belly. 


	14. Part XIV

When Remy ended the kiss, I gave a tiny whimper. Smiling cheerfully, he said, "Mon choit. My pet. Did you miss me?"

I blinked and unbelievably, I nodded.

He brushed my lips again. "Shall we celebrate my return den?" I nodded again.

"Turn around, cher." I looked at him nervously, wondering if he was going to take me here. But he smiled and said, "Go on, mon petit. I only want to look at you, my prize."

I inhaled nervously and turned around. Why wasn't I fighting him? I couldn't feel the warmth anymore. The power. He'd withdrawn it. But I didn't fight. Alex. It was Alex, I realized. I had to protect him. I had to stay and obey and make sure he survived.

When I'd turned away from him, Remy took my buttocks in his hand and began to examine my ass. He massaged it thoroughly, running a finger along the crack, pushing in at the tight puckered opening. I gasped and tried not to step away. My cheeks clenched down on his fingers. Then he withdrew the finger and slapped me hard on the right cheek. Startled, I began to step away, but he caught my shoulder.

"Did I tell you to move?" Remy growled. I stopped.

Swinging me around to face him, he said, "You're mine, Scott. You'll do only what I ask. You may not like it now, but in time, cher, you will."

Remy took my hand, once again turning the charm on me. Then he led me through the palace to his suite of rooms. I stayed under his influence until we reached his bedroom. This kept him in control. I might have tried something, had I been thinking clearly. I might have been able to kill him as we walked through the castle, up and up, staircase after staircase, down a corridor, a turn, then another and another until we reached the very top where he resided. The place was a virtual maze. I might have bolted, getting lost in the hallways and rooms, trying to escape out of fear and loathing. At that moment I didn't loath him. I was under his spell. Which ensured he needed no escort. This was his time alone with me.

Finally, at the very pinnacle of his citadel, we reached his private suite of rooms. An elaborately carved wooden door marked the entrance. Dark cherry wood with angels and saints in bas relief. A throw back to his Catholic heritage, I imagined. I gazed at it in fascination, completely lost in the sensation of his power, as he punched a private code into a tiny key pad near the handle of the door. When he took my hand again I started in confusion and looked down as if burned by his touch. Remy smiled and I was lost in that smile. His red eyes seemed to glow, entrancing me deeper into the warmth he projected, so tender, so loving.

He said nothing, just led me through the doorway down a long dimly lit hallway. We immediately passed a slave room, where a small retinue of housekeeping slaves stayed to keep Remy's living quarters in order and to wait on his mundane needs when he was in residence. Just past this room large exquisite paintings and tapestries lined the walls. Renaissance paintings and religious themes, ancient pastels of meadows and forests, women and children laughing and playing along the shores of small lakes. Murals of days long past. Old works that must have been worth the cost of a small country. It was a wonder I noticed this art work at all, I was so far gone in his power.

We past three more doorways open to view. One was a small bedroom and I blinked when I thought I saw toys on the floor. I shook my head in disbelief, but then we were passed the room and I lost the thought as we moved along swiftly. There was what might have been a guest bedroom elegantly decorated in soft warm colors. A study was next with large oak bookshelves going up to the ceiling, almost encircling the room. An ornate desk sat just opposite the door. And I had a chance to see a globe encased in an iron stand. I wondered fleetingly if it was a map of this world and whether I'd be able to examine it more closely.

Then we were through a small sitting area with antique chairs and a small wooden table covered with marble. A dark maroon and navy blue couch sat against one wall. Intricate gold stitching detailed the fabric. Candles were burning in iron hangings on the wall and a Tiffany electric lamp stood behind the two chairs giving off a low glow, soft and graceful.

The door to his personal bedroom stood at the end of sitting room and I shuddered nervously as he opened it guiding me through. His powers had dimished. Remy, it appeared to me, felt safe enough now to let it wane. I was here without a fight. Not exactly sure why, I turned my head slightly as we went over the threshold to see two burly guards coming up the hallway. Then the door closed behind me with an ominous click.

Just inside the doorway, Remy stopped me, allowing me to take in my surroundings. I stood on the cool polished marble floor. A slight chill went through me.

"Home, cher." He said in a low husky voice promising pleasure beyond my wildest dreams. I tried to ignore it and looked around at the decor. To my left was a king-sized four poster bed made of cherry oak with a heavy brocade canopy. Thick roccoco fabric in burgundy, forest green and dark blue draped down at all four wooden posts and was neatly tied with gold braiding. At the head of the bed was a carved board, celtic in design, a stunning pattern. Two iron rings were attached to the headboard. Iron rings were also screwed into the four posts on the inner sides and down at the foot of the bed very close to the floor. A priceless plush Persian carpet lay at the end of the bed, its colors complementing the bedspread and canopy.

Another Persian rug, just as exquisite, ran before Remy and I almost to the large window. Two antique sitting chairs, similar in design to the ones in the hallway sitting area, sat in the middle of the room facing the window. They were covered in silk navy blue fabric with elaborate gold stitching. Heavy burgundy curtains shut out the daylight and all around the room candles burned in delicately worked iron holders, the atmosphere of the room like that of a Shakespearian castle adorned for a night of passion. As if to emphasize the antiquated environment the overhead electrical lights were low.

Turning my head to the right side of the rectangular room I examined the three mahogany couches covered in silk burgundy fabric with more of the intricate gold stitching. They sat in a U-shape in front of a large marble lined fireplace. The mantel was worked in soft natural oak. A few priceless, I assumed, antique statuettes and vases sat along its edge. Another soft Persian rug lay in front of the fireplace as a fire roared in the dark mouth of the ingle. Between the couches sat a cherry oak coffee table with small drawers lining the sides, iron rings used as handles. On the right side of the fireplace was a door. And along the wall, perpendicular to the door stood a huge ornate armoir.

After a few minutes, when Remy felt I'd had a long enough look around, he ran a hand over my spine and across my ass and pushed me forward toward the window. I was surprised by this action. I'd expected him to lead me right over to the bed, throw me onto it and fuck me there and then. Obviously I never really knew the man. I certainly didn't know him now. He was a complete mystery to me. He acted almost as a lover showing me his home for the first time, wanting to impress.

Remy guided me across the softest rug I'd ever had the priviledge to walk on. I felt as if my feet sank an inch or two into the plushness. Contrasting the coolness of the marble it set my senses tingling. An added effect for slaves brought here, something to enhance the nervousness they already were experiencing?

As we approached the window, Remy stepped away to pull open the thick curtains. Immediately I brought my hand up to block the fiercely setting sun from my squinting eyes. It was brilliant. Possibly the most gorgeous sunset I'd ever seen in my life. And with my own eyes. No ruby quartz glasses to veil the colors in reds and pinks. The sight was incredible. The window looked out over a city that seemed to be set ablaze. Yellows, oranges, umbers all bathed the buildings in an inferno. Windows sparkled and winked as the golden star slid below the horizon. The sky above shone rosy at the edges of the orb dueling with the reds and purples across the few scattered clouds. Yellow rays of light shot up through those clouds like the true voice of God. And closer to me the sky was a deeper blue, growing darker with every minute as the sun disappeared behind the city.

Remy stepped behind me with a lovely grin and placed his hands on my buttocks, massaging them gently with his fingers. I shivered as my muscles tightened. Was this where he would take me, in front of the city bathed in the setting sun? In spite of the nervous anticipation I felt as he touched me, I kept my eyes locked on the breathtaking view, not wanting to miss a moment.

"Manifique." Remy whispered, his breath warm and inviting in my ear drawing another shudder. "Almost enough to rival your beauty, eh cher?" Pulling me close, he wrapped his long arms tightly around my waist taking the earlobe in his teeth and wetting it with his tongue. Then letting it go he blew gently. If not for the ring I would have cum then furiously. Remy stretched himself taut along my back resting his chin on my right shoulder. We stood there in silence watching the sun escape down behind the buildings until lights began to flicker in the windows below. How many slaves were pleasuring their masters, maybe enjoying this view, I had to wonder.

As the last of the setting sun turned into an tiny eerie green arch and the sky turned nearly pitch in front of us, Remy sighed as if in sadness at the loss and turned me around to face him. He pressed his lips to mine and backed away to look at me closely, as if he almost couldn't believe I was here and I was his and I would obey. I watched him back for several minutes as his eyes trailed slowly down my nude form. Then, unable to stop myself, I turned my head to look at the bed with a dreadful expectation. Remy saw the movement and looked to where my gaze went. With a sly smile he looked back at me. "Soon enough, cher." Then he laughed. "You t'ink I'm just gonna throw you on de bed and fuck you thoroughly, eh?"

I turned back to meet his eyes, my look saying everything my lips would not.

His smile deepened. "I wouldn't be so crass, Scott. I want to savor you. I want to make love to you. And I want you to enjoy it. I want you to know that you loved being taken by another man and dat you loved being possessed by Remy Lebeau."

I felt my jaw tremble just a little and I clenched my teeth tightly together to stop the shaking. But Remy noticed the action and ran his fingertips across my jawline.

"Relax. I could never hurt you." I almost laughed, but then he added, "Unless you disobey me." His voice was low and as sensual as silk across my bare skin with no hint of the threat in his tone. His fingers burned along the edge of my chin as I flushed, part in anger at the threat, part in fear at the certainty of sex this night, and part in arousal as he touched me.

"Remy...I don't..." My head snapped back at the force of his hand striking across my face. I stood frozen in shock, eyes wide, anxious and furious.

"I own you, Scott. I didn't go t'rough de trouble of bringing you here for us to be friends. You'll address me properly. You'll call me Master. And you'll speak only when I permit it. Understand?" Remy's voice was razor-sharp, brooking no argument. His eyes seemed to glow more fiercely, narrowed into slits. Swallowing, I considered fighting him, my rage rising at his warning. I wasn't thinking very clearly, believing somehow that I could resist him. As far as hand-to-hand combat skills I was certain we were equally matched, though he was the more agile. But then I caught myself, reining in my anger as I realized he held the advantage with his kinetic mutation. I had to honestly question whether he'd use it against me. If he couldn't have me willingly, would he kill me instead? How deep did his obsession with me run? Of course he could take me willingly enough by turning on that damn charm of his. It was how he'd fucked Alex.

I straightened and nodded once, sharply. He had me, if not at his complete mercy, then very close to it. "Yes Master." The word rolled like acid off my tongue, bitter to the taste. Remy looked at me warily for a minute, taking in my reaction, measuring my acceptance, judging the tone of my answer. Was there a hint of sarcasm or disrespect there?

"D'ccord." He said at last, pulling me into his arms, his hands holding my ass firmly against him, his lips touching my throat running up from the hollow to the jugular with just the tip of his tongue. Then he begain to suck furiously, making me gasp as my knees weakened. He was marking me as his own. I could feel the purpling of my skin begin as Remy's lips left the mark to plunder my mouth. His tongue was insistent as it pushed forward demanding entrance. And I relinquished control then, opening to a bruising kiss that took my breath away. Suddenly I realized that for all his words of ownership he was trying to seduce me. There was an air of romance about his stance, his touch, his kiss. I shuddered and almost giggled at how romantic the scene was. Next he'd be bringing me flowers and candy and asking me to the prom.

Finally, Remy broke the kiss with a pat to my face and taking my hand, led me over to the fireplace. When he ordered me to kneel I dropped to the rug without argument, but slowly, still some defiance in my manner. As I looked up at him, Remy gazed thoughtfully down at me. I thought he was about to say something, but then he moved to sit on one of the couches. Placing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, he rubbed his face wearily and muttered under his breath. I suppressed a surge of sympathy, thinking with contradictory delight "I must be a handful for him." The corners of my mouth curled up into a tight smile that vanished the moment he leaned back into the couch, stretched his arms across the top and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table.

We sat in silence for a long time and I wondered what exactly we were waiting for. Remy's eyes had closed and I felt certain he was asleep. I breathed a small sigh of relief. Maybe he'd sleep there all night and forget about me. I watched him closely as his facial muscles relaxed, thinking he really was a handsome man. His long silky auburn hair hung down the back of the couch giving me full view of his profile. He had a thin somewhat hawkish nose and high aristocratic cheek bones, soft pliable lips and a sharp angled chin. I'd heard him referred to as the prince of thieves or the prince of New Orleans. I could believe him to be royalty for all his being raised in the streets, an orphan and pick-pocket. Remy was a shade shorter than me, not much, but sitting back like that he seemed taller, longer. It was his slender build I imagine. He had a powerful body, but thin. Angular, but not bony. He was dressed in a regal purple, gold and black topcoat embroidered with a swirling paisley design. Loose black pants fit well into plain black boots that went up to his knees. His arousal was evident even underneath all that heavy clothing. I looked up into red on black eyes.

"Enjoying de view?"

My head whipped away, embarrassed to be caught admiring him so openly. Remy chuckled and was about to say something else when the door to his room opened quietly and a young blond-haired boy stepped shyly into the room. He closed the door just as quietly.

"Henri!" Remy voiced with delight. The boy smiled and came around to stand in front of him.

"My Lord." Henri said with an oddly reserved dignity for boy his age. I guessed him to be about nine or ten. He wore a navy blue tunic without embellishment, black pants and boots. A cute little boy, he had bleach blond hair and bright attentive blue eyes. "Cute as a button," Jean would have said.

Without another word from Remy, Henri began to tug at the Cajun's boot, slipping it off with little difficulty and placing it next to the table. Then he did the same with the other boot. Remy stood, but as the boy began to undo his pants, he looked over at me and scowled. Pushing the boy gently away he stepped in front of me and cracked me once again across the face.

"I'm no pedophile, hein!" Had my expression been that obvious? Apparently so. Remy cursed at me in French. Then he said, "Got a lot of nerve to judge me, homme, kneeling dere naked wit' a collar an' a cock ring on. 'Specially when Henri is fully clothed." I dropped my head somewhat ashamed, but mostly angry. What did he expect? Yound male sex slaves running around his palace. Seemed reasonable to me he might have a taste for young boys.

Remy bent down, digging his fingers into my chin and lifting it to look at me. He was furious. "Not dat I need to explain it to a slave," His tone was cold putting all the emphasis on the word slave, "but Henri is the illegitimate son of one of my courtiers. He's learning how to be a valet. Wit' my recommendation he'll be able to get a position in any of the homes of de wealthy. A free man. You're in no position to judge." He let go of my jaw roughly and stood up, still glaring at me.

I bit the inside of my cheek, drawing blood to keep from screaming back at him that I was no slave. That he'd taken me from my home, stripped me and collared me, forced me into this perverse role and was planning on raping me tonight no matter what he called it. I had every right to judge him. And to hate him. But it would get me nowhere. I gritted my teeth, biting back the rage and reached up to the fly of his trousers intending to give the sign of submission.

But Remy stopped me, understanding my intent. "Not until you mean it, mon cher." How could he say that? I'd never really mean it. I'd never really submit to him, not in my head, not in my heart.

I dropped my hand and my head and waited for him to act. A moment later I felt his fingers against my forehead pushing it back. At the same time he said, "Look at me, Scott." I tilted my head to look up at him keeping my expression neutral. His fingers worked through my hair, brushing it lightly, his gesture warm and tender. "No more fighting, eh?"

As if we'd actually been fighting, I thought laughing to myself. If we had it'd been a wholy one-sided argument with Remy as the winner hands down.

"Let's make this a pleasant evening, neh?" Remy continued brightly. "A night to remember. It's like our honeymoon, non?" I just looked at him, a slight clench of my jaw the only sign of my hatred. There he went again comparing our relationship to a marriage, as if it were something sacred and pure.

Remy cocked his head slightly to the left and hardened his look. He knew I was angry. The question was whether he would ignore it for the moment or try to break my anger out of me, perhaps turn it into fear. He sighed. I wasn't quite as broken as he'd thought. Bending down, he smoothed the hair from my brow and gave me a quick chaste kiss. Then he stepped back over to Henri, allowing the boy to finish undressing him. Remy would ignore my resistance for now.

Lowering my face, I watched him from the corner of my eye. Now naked he stretched his tight lean form lanquidly and raised his arms high above his head. Turning away from me as Henri went to the armoir, Remy twisted his head popping the bones. Then he placed his hands on the back of his hips and cracked the joints of his spine. His fingers sat just below the dimples of his rear. Lord, what a nice ass he had. Round and smooth. An image leapt into my head of me cupping those twin orbs with my hands, stoking the soft silky flesh and running my tongue along the crack of his ass while he writhed and moaned. I shuddered inwardly at the vision and looked away, not wanting to know what other images would spring to mind when he turned around.

I closed my eyes and focused my thoughts on other things. My wife, Jean. How beautiful she looked in the mornings when I woke before her. The sun streaming through the window would catch her hair causing it to sparkle. Her face would be smooth from rest and free of worry. I could have watched her forever like that, still not quite believing she loved me, the skinny freak with the ruby red glasses. That wouldn't work. So I went through the list of X-men enemies and their powers. A little better. But Remy could now be included on that list. Okay, mutants with horribly disfiguring powers. That did the trick. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up. Remy was clothed in a purple satin robe tied loosely around his slender hips. "C'mon, cher. I need a bath."


	15. Part XV

Remy led me through the door near the fireplace, into a classically gilded bathroom. Marble tile ran right up to a huge sunken bath. A shower stall that could easily fit twenty people (and probably did at times, I suspected) stood against the far wall. There was an arched entrance on the left wall through which I could see cherry wooden cabinets topped by a marble surface. A mirror framed in a golden Romanesque support hung above the countertop.

As I stood there for a moment mesmerized by the water running from the two ornate faucets arching over the tub, Remy pushed me toward it with a light slap to my rear, bringing me out of my thirsty daze. "Get in." He ordered. I stepped down onto a wide porcelin bench into the warm fragrant water, restraining the urge to place my head under one of the faucets and drink until my stomach burst. Wading to the far corner of the bath, I sank down onto another bench and watched Remy warily. He gave me an encouraging but sly smile and dropped his robe as seductively as a woman. But what was revealed underneath left no doubt he was a man. Long-boned, slender at the hips, hardened rosy nipples and a light speck of russet hair along his chest that ran like a V toward his groin. His cock was half-engorged, long and thicker than I'd expected. (Not that I'd tried to dwell on the subject too often). I shuddered inwardly at the thought of him trying to pierce me with it.

Remy came toward the tub slowly, carefully, as if to assess my reaction to his body. And, I imagine, to allow me an agonizing drawn-out look. But I kept my eyes on his face, only noting his body in my periphery. More than a glance downward might have caused me to salivate from the thirst and hunger pangs I continued to experience. If he'd only get on with it, I thought irritably, so that I could get some real food and drink like he'd promised.

After he'd gracefully entered the water, Remy tapped a tile at the nearest corner and a small shelf emerged out of the wall of the tub filled with toiletries: a small selection of shampoos, conditioners, oils, soaps, sponges and washclothes.

"Come here." He gestured to the shelf and the bench beside it. Sighing, I pushed up off my seat and reluctantly went to him. Remy instructed me to sit with my legs spread up on the bench. Then he snuggled down between my thighs as if he had every right to be there. Arrogance oozed from him like the beads of water dripping from the ends of his hair. I lifted my hands in the air, letting them hang for the moment as if loathed to touch him, while he settled his body back against my chest. Thankfully the water seemed to ease the throb in my cock, making Remy's form seem lighter though his spine pressed up against my erection.

Closing his eyes in contentment he said, "Wash me." I hesitated and so he added, "Start wit' de hair, cher, and work your way down." Remy looked back up at me mischieviously. "Surely you've done dis before." He winked at me as if we shared a secret, then rested his head back down on my shoulder. "Dere's a shower nozzle under de shelf."

I dropped my hands and searched for it, tugging it roughly from its dock. There was a button on the side of the spout, and pointing it out over the tub, I pushed it, testing the pressure. It sprayed with just a gentle mist so I aimed it at Remy's head and began stroking his hair with my free hand, helping the water to soak in.

Of course I'd done this before. I'd often washed Jean's hair. It was one of my favorite things to do. She had a gorgeous mane, thick and silky. I never told her out loud, but one of my secret turn-ons was brushing that mane. I'd whine and complain whenever she asked me to do it, but she knew even in the back of my bitching that I liked performing the little chore and so she asked often. I hated the feelings that stirred in me as I ran my fingers through Remy's locks. He had almost the same texture as Jean, just a little coarser but not by much. I took pleasure in the sensation of the strands against my fingertips and was aroused by the intimacy. But I was angry at myself for finding the experience so enticing.

Then it dawned on me that perhaps in his arrogance, Remy had let his guard down. I was a match for him strengthwise. One violent push and I could force his head underwater, keeping it there until his eyes bulged and the life drained out of him. Could he access that charm of his before he lost consciousness? Or would the terror of the moment deprive him of the concentration he needed to persuade me to let him loose? Maybe he'd tap into that kinetic power, charging the collar around my neck and blowing my head off. Or worse, charge the ring around my penis. All these thoughts circled around my head at once, both tempting and terrifying, and my hand stopped in its path across his scalp.

I nearly jumped when he spoke, casually but with an edge of warning. "I know what you're t'inking, mon ami. You could kill me now, eh?" I looked down into those scarlet eyes laced with lust and a hint of danger, my own eyes widened in surprise. Was he a telepath? Had he kept that knowledge from us all those years he'd been on the team? Or was he just making an accurate assumption, thrilled by the rush, knowing I wanted to murder him and gambling his life I wouldn't?

"Yeah." I answered honestly.

"You could, Scott." His tone remained calm and casual as if he were merely discussing the weather. "You might even make it to de portal before Henri found me. But I doubt you could make it in time to get your baby brot'er from de slave quarters." I frowned, wondering what he was hinting at. Then he told me. "Dey'd execute him immediately. He's your brot'er after all. All de guards know it. Dey'd expect him to be in on de kill. Someone has to pay for de king's murder."

Remy looked down into the water, swirling it sensuously with one long finger. "So you 'ave to ask yourself, homme, am I a gambling man? Would I bet de life of my only brot'er to kill Remy Lebeau?"

The silence was a roar in my ear, pressing heavily against my senses. My hand became rigid on the top of Remy's head and the water sprayed aimlessly into the tub. All of a sudden I could hardly think and my mouth felt even drier than before. That was the weakness Alex had spoken about. That was what Remy held over me, my brother's life. No, I wouldn't gamble his life. This palace was a maze. I had no idea where the portal room was. I had no idea where my brother was. And once the guards were alerted to Remy's bloated corpse one flick of the control box and I'd be stopped dead in my tracks. Freedom depended on how long it took for the murder to be discovered.

And then I remembered the guards at the door. From what I'd seen of the bedroom and this bathroom there was only one way out. I abruptly inhaled. Unless I wanted to fight my way out past those guards and most likely die during the battle, I'd have to wait for a better opportunity.

But would I kill Remy even then? I wanted to. The image of my hands around his throat, his eyes wide with terror, the water pouring into his gaping mouth as he struggled, was heady. But my respect for life, even his sorry hide, and even to the point of my own humiliation, was too ingrained. Had I wanted the man dead I would have already succumbed to the temptation of drowning him. No, I wouldn't murder him, as much as I wanted to. What I was really looking for was a chance to escape.

After a time that felt endless, Remy lifted my hand from his head in a self-assured manner and placed it to his lips. The kiss was swift, tugging at the skin just above the vein, belying the threat and speaking volumes. When he let go, I placed it against his forehead and went back to work. He wriggled in satisfaction, so trusting of my nature and his portentous words.

Biting my tongue on the curses at its tip, I scowled. He was sure of himself and I hated his affectation, but I continued to soak his hair, unable to do anything other than what he ordered. When his mane was thoroughly wet, I reached over to the shelf and brusquely grabbed a bottle of shampoo, taking my wrath out on the inanimate object, squeezing the plastic until it nearly burst. But as I began to lather the auburn locks, my ire receded and my mind drifted as I imagined Jean's hair beneath my fingertips. Thankfully, Remy was blessedly quiet as I raked his scalp gently. No sounds intruded on my daydream and I took my time, stroking and massaging, my nails scratching lightly. On occasion he'd shiver, but even then I could imagine it was my wife, the love of my life enjoying the shampoo.

Eventually reality came crashing down when Remy opened his eyes and looked up at me sleepily. "Dat's nice cher," He said with a lazy intonation, "but I t'ink it's time to rinse."

Letting out a low bitter sigh, I turned the nozzle back on and washed the soap from his hair.

"Master?" I began through gritted teeth. That title would never roll easily off my tongue, but I wasn't sure if Remy would get angry for asking a question without at least showing some proper respect at the outset.

His tone was lanquid and forgiving. "Oui?"

"Do you want me to repeat?"

"Oui."

"Conditioner?" I'd intended to use it, but the question was raised to measure how much I could say without incuring his anger.

"Oui." Still calm, still unconcerned.

I began again, but this time my mind remained alert, the peaceful images of my wife difficult to retrieve. Instead I turned my attention to Remy and our...relationship. How would he define it? When would I be able to speak freely?  _Would_  I be able to speak freely?

"Master?" I began again.

"Oui?" A mild irritation in the tone this time. He didn't appreciate being constantly interrupted from the bliss of my fingers through his hair. I pressed on regardless. "May I speak freely?" I kept my voice low and soothing, no trace of anger or sarcasm in my inflection.

There was a pause as Remy contemplated giving his permission. In the end he granted my request. "Okay."

"I just wanted you to define my speaking...arrangement. You told me not to speak unless spoken to. But, am I allowed to ask questions so that I understand exactly what it is you want?"

"Of course, cher." Remy patted my thigh and snuggled further back into my arms as if the discussion was over.

I rinsed the second lather away thoughtfully, tugging on his locks to pull off the excess water. Remy sighed with delight and I had a sudden urge to press my lips and nose against the strands in my hand, to taste and smell his radiance. Instead I grabbed the bottle of conditioner, dabbed a small amount onto my palm and combed it softly through his hair.

"Will you hit me everytime I say something without your permission?" I asked tentatively. "Master." I added to ward off any negative reactions.

I could almost hear Remy frown in annoyance. "Only when you say something I don't like or I feel the need to correct you." He paused, but before I could say more he continued. "We'll talk 'bout dis later. You're a smart boy, Scott. You'll figure out de rules." He flicked the water with his fingers muttering. "Always de rules wit' you. Always got to be knowin' where you stand."

"Well yeah!" I said a bit taken aback. "I don't think I'd like being cracked across my face everytime I say something." Instinctively, I rubbed my cheek.

Remy chuckled and smiled mischieviously up at me, moving my fingers away to stroke the skin he'd hit. "Dat little love pat? C'mon, cher, you've been t'rough much worse."

"That's debatable." I grumbled. Remy laughed and dipped his hand below the water, running it up my thigh until he reached my groin. Firmly he cupped my testicles and rolled them between his fingers. I squirmed in frustration.

"Don't!" I rasped. "Please!"

"Why?" He asked with a devious grin. "Is dis torture?"

"Just frustrating," I breathed, "because of this thing you've got around my dick."

Remy released my balls but continued to stroke my thigh lazily. That was nearly as bad. "And if I took it off you'd be more...enthusiastic?"

"Probably." I grunted. "I don't have a whole lot of options here."

"True." He nodded. "Well, we'll see, mon cher. We'll see. But you got to remember dat de master/slave relationship is defined by de master. You're here to service and pleasure me. Don't forget dat."

"How could I possibly forget?" I replied earnesty tugging at the collar around my neck. Remy's fingers left my thigh and reached back to pat my cheek in a sympathetic manner. Then he sought my lips running the tips across their dryness. It was too tempting. I opened my mouth and sucked one finger inside lapping up the soapy moisture. Closing my eyes I felt him writhe a little against me as he began to plunge his finger in and out of my mouth. Then he offered a second and I sucked even more avidly. Despite the bitter taste, the liquid soothed my arid tongue. It had been too long since my last feeding. I was thirsty and hungry and aroused. Grabbing his wrist tightly I stopped his pistoning and sucked in his thumb licking it dry. Then I laved at the hand, supping on the tiny drops of water clinging there just to entice me.

I protested with a groan when Remy tore his hand away. "Not yet, m'sweet. Not yet." His voice was ragged and his breathing rapid and labored. But he was still in control.

"Why not?!" I whined in vexation.

Remy let out a short bark of husky laughter. "So eager to feel your master inside of you, pet?"

"I just want to get it over with!" I snapped and regretted the words the instant I spat them out. Remy tensed saying nothing and his silence was ominous. I'd stepped over the line. He knew I didn't want him, not really, not by choice, and I certainly didn't love him. But to almost bluntly point it out was a grievous error. And while I wouldn't have cared if he punished me for the infraction, I was worried that he'd use Alex as the weapon. I had to rectify the situation and quickly before he came to a decision I wouldn't like.

"I'm just thirsty Master, and hungry." Bending down with a hint of resignation I placed my lips on his shoulder. "It's been awhile and I'm frustrated." This was true enough. Not exactly what he wanted to hear, but it would do for now. I felt him relax just a little. At least he wanted me and I could use that to my advantage. Not often. Remy wasn't stupid. But on occasion he might forgive my outbursts if I played up to his desire. I ran light kisses toward his throat and up to the base of his ear, running my tongue up behind it. Remy's head cocked to one side to give me better access and I heard him gasp when I sucked in the earlobe. I couldn't bring myself to apologize, but my lips and tongue were saying enough.

"Very well." I heard him rasp. "You'll be fed." He moved suddenly out of my arms and hopped up onto the side of the tub. Sitting back on his hands he said, "Let's just see how well your baby brot'er taught you." I heard the slight emphasis on the word 'brother' like a threat. One hand cupped the base of his full erection and then slid up the shaft on the tips of his fingers. "Feed on me, avide petit morue!"

I didn't have to understand that last part to know Remy was still in a dangerous mood. This was a test of my skill and my obediance. I'd have to pass on both accounts or I felt sure he'd punish me. Slowly I waded between his legs catching my first good glimpse of his manhood. It was just a hair longer than my brother's, but a good bit thicker. I swallowed, my throat tightening on instinct, and knelt down on the bench. Rubbing my lips together nervously I leaned forward and sniffed. Remy had a clean, musky smell, with just a touch of the fragrance of the water. The scent spurred me on as I remembered the taste of his fingers and the moisture that had clung to them. I licked the enflamed head of his cock, pressing the tip of my tongue down into the slit. He moaned and once again sat back on his hands, his erection rocking gently against my tongue. With a careful movement I reached up to take his testicles between my fingers. Alex had warned me it was rare for Remy to give a slave control of the situation. But when he didn't push my hands away I relaxed thinking he was allowing me free rein.

The organ was still pleasantly wet from the bath and I reveled in the double taste of water droplets mixed with his pre-cum. He was oozing steadily from the meatus. With a tiny popping sound I sucked the head between my lips and moved forward inch by tantilizing inch, swirling my tongue along the sensitive underside. When I'd reached halfway I pulled back out. "Merde!" Remy breathed in frustration. I smiled. Two could play this game. My fingers squeezed his sack with a persistent pleasant pressure as I played with the tender loose fleshy frenulum, sucking it between my lips in long tight gulps.

I could feel his ire vanish as he rocked his hips, tensing and thrusting upward, soft Cajun patois flying from his lips. "Mon Dieu, don' tease." I nearly laughed. It was heady, being able to make him squirm. I could almost desire him like this. Almost. But my need was even more basic than sex. I wanted something to fill my belly and relieve my thirst. I grasped the base of his cock making him gasp and held it firmly where I wanted it. Then I placed my forearms on his thighs letting the weight of my upper body keep him seated, unable to thrust. He didn't protest and I licked the head as a reward. Over and over I ran my tongue, admitting even to myself that the sensation of his skin against my tastebuds and nervendings was intoxicating. The tip of his penis was velvet, smooth and slick. Little rivulets of fluid ran down into my mouth and I began to guzzle them down with a vibrating hum and moan as I allowed the rosy head to tip between my lips. Remy gasped, and I prepared myself, expecting him to come, but he pulled himself back from under my arms, drawing himself back from the brink.

Suddenly my eyes widened in surprise as he let his power surge through me. I could feel his sensations, my mouth wrapped around his penis, the flow of his pre-cum, the brink of his orgasm. It was all internal, waves of ecstasy crashing through my brain, setting every nerve on fire. And I wanted him to step over that precipice. I wanted him to get THERE, to cum for me and in me and surround me with that incredible sensation that bordered on heaven. I slammed my mouth all the way down to his belly. My throat spasmed at the intrusion but I didn't care. All I cared for was his pleasure that would ensure mine. Remy cried out at the force of my need as my throat clamped down on his erection. I pulled out as quickly as I'd gone down and began a surging rhythm, releasing his hips so he could join me. Down and down I went each time to the root and I could feel it, the further building of his orgasm. Tears burned my eyes at the intensity, but I couldn't...I wouldn't stop until he came. And when he did, shooting wildly into my throat, I felt it all. Fireworks and stars sparkling against the darkness of my closed lids. My own erection strained painfully against the cock ring, but it did not matter. All that mattered was the crash of those sensations, the force of his climax running through me. It was love and pain, hurt and surrender, bliss and the pinnacle of the firmament all wrapped up and forced through my nervous system. The feeling unhinged and overwhelmed me, trapped me in its claws like an addiction I never wanted to break. I flew off him with a strangled cry, almost choking on his cum, and fell back into the water. My arms and legs shook violently as the sensations continued to flood through me for a moment longer.

Then Remy was slipping down into the water with me, taking me into his arms and kissing me with a bruising passion. And I couldn't help but kiss him back, meeting his lips with a blissful gratitude. For that moment he was everything, master, lover, friend, husband, life. When he broke the kiss to sit back on the bench of the tub and pull me into his lap, I continued to shudder. With a firm but tender hand he pushed my head down onto his shoulder and held me tightly to him. I felt him cup the water and run it soothingly down my spine sending more shivers through my form.

"Alex taught you well." He whispered, his own breath still ragged. "Mon Dieu! He taught you well!"

I smiled against his shoulder. "Well, he is a Summers after all." I croaked. "It's in the genes."

Remy burst into delighted laughter. "Such modest boys too." I chuckled a little with him, then feeling steadier I pulled back off his lap. He didn't stop me.

"What now?" I asked, looking directly at him. He gazed at me and I knew that he understood my meaning. But nothing had changed. In his eyes, I was still his possession.

 


	16. Part XVI

Touching a hand to his slick hair Remy said, "Time to rinse, mon couer. And finish de bath." My lips tightened in angry resignation, but he was looking over my shoulder, ignoring my expression. "I t'ink we'll use de shower." Standing up he turned away from me and stepped sensuously out of the bath, flicking his hair off his shoulder to spray tiny droplets across my chest. I watched in sore fascination as a bead of water ran down his spine, catching just at the top of his dimpled crack. It clung for a long moment like a worshipper refusing to leave the foot of his god before Remy turned back around to face me, flinging it loose. I almost envied that droplet, worshipping the lovely man before me and then blessedly tossed away, forgotten. If only Remy would let me go as easily.

But he stretched his hand out commanding me to join him, a wily smile on his deceptively gentle features. I took the hand he offered and got out of the water. We padded around to the shower stall without speaking. Assuming it was my job, I turned on the shower and waited for it to warm to a comfortable level. Remy watched me with that mischievious little grin on his face, his hands tucked behind his back. When I was fairly certain the water was at a temperature he'd find pleasing enough, I stepped back and bowed to him formally.

"My Lord, I think you'll find the water sufficient. Shall I rinse your hair for you?" His grin broadened. Obviously he was in a better mood and would enjoy my playful banter. I was in a better mood myself, in spite of the situation.

Without a word, Remy stepped under the showerhead. "Water's jus' right, mon couer."

Moving behind him, I brought my hands up and ran them through his hair, wringing the conditioner away. I let my hands move as they wanted, to massage his scalp in an almost loving way. Remy leaned back against me letting the water rush over his face and torso, most of his weight perched on my shoulders. After a time, the conditioner completely rinsed from his locks, I pushed him up gently and reached over to a shelf that held shower supplies. Grabbing the sponge hanging there along with the liquid soap I lathered it up and began to wash my master.

Starting at his neck I ran the soapy sponge slowly, seductively over his skin, letting the foam flow over his back to trickle down and pool at the upturn of his hips. Remy purred under my touch. Caught up in the sound and motion, I nearly fell over when he stepped away. I recovered quickly and followed him to the wall of the shower as he leaned up against it, his back presented to me, his arms hanging loosely at his sides and his forehead resting against the cool tile. I moved up very close to his body and ran the sponge down one of his arms. I let my lathered hand slide down his other arm, moving in tiny circles. Shivers and gasps fell from his lips like the water spraying down onto the tiled floor.

Taking my time, trying not to contemplate what emotions had taken hold of me, I stroked his firm muscles, digging my fingers in with the soapy water to massage and cleanse every inch of his skin. I think I wanted him quaking under my fingertips, burning for my touch in much the same way I had been enflamed by his power, overwhelmed by his thrall. And I was rewarded for my diligence by an empathetic wave surging over me. Without thinking I raised my hips against his rear and pressed my length up his spine eliciting a groan. My hands came around and I soaked his chest with the lathered sponge, playing with his nipples. Remy undulated back into my groin, this time causing me to gasp as pain and pleasure past through me. Alex had been undeniably correct: Remy was better than even his boasts.

For long tantalizing minutes we teased each other. I continued to wash him and fondle his lean body. And he continued to sway his hips in a very provocative manner. Our groans and gasps and whimpers the only sounds we made. No words, and I wouldn't place my lips on his skin.

After several unfufilled moments, I placed my hands on his hips to hold him still. I was running on instinct, not sure exactly what to do, but knowing that so far I'd been driving him wild. At least the sensations that he projected out to me told me so. I moved a little to the side of him to watch his face. His eyes were closed, his head still hung down, forhead resting on the wall, and he was worrying his bottom lip in arousal. I wanted to bite into that swollen lip, sucking it hard. It looked so delicious as droplets of water or perhaps sweat held fast to the underside. But then he opened his eyes and I cringed at the knowing look he gave me, red eyes glowing with confidence. He'd bring me to ecstasy beyond my wildest dreams and I'd be his forever. I couldn't let him believe that. Not now. Hopefully never.

So I bent to a crouch and focused on his legs. I curled the sponge around his right foot, touching his calf to get him to lift it. Each toe and then the bottom of the foot was cleaned and I moved to the left. Then I ran up his entire leg, lathering all of it, once again not missing an inch of his skin. When I reached the area where his thigh met his groin, I ran a finger feather-light along the length of his shaft. As it bobbed and grew even more erect, Remy cursed me in French and Cajun, then swatted my head saying, "Tease!" I smiled and went to work on the other leg.

Pretty soon all that was left was his cock and his rear. I stepped back squeezing the sponge into my hand forming a thick foam. Then I dropped the sponge and grabbed both of his ass cheeks, copying his own particular style of kneading the flesh. One finger ran the length of his crack and prodded the opening. But he stepped forward with a warning growl, "No, cher. Dat's not for you." I shrugged. It was worth the try.

I moved my hands back over his ass, trailing them over his hips, stroking the bony flesh for a second before plunging on to his cock. The slippery foam helped my hands slide up and down with ease, and Remy began a thrusting rhythm as I jacked him off. My hand ran smooth and fast along his slick cock drenched by the shower and soap. I pumped him furiously, waiting for that wash of empathetic power as he climaxed. But Remy was selfish. He kept his power in check. So in my frustration I squeezed down hard causing him to buck back into me with a hiss as he grabbed my arm vise-like.

Remy's hips plowing into my swollen sensitive erection drew a yelp from me and I let go of him, stumbling back. He spun around, angry, his member now limp from the pain I'd induced. As he stalked toward me I stepped back further and further until I hit the wall under the rushing spray of the shower head. And Remy was there in a flash, his nose inches from my face.

"Tryin' to tear it off, mon ami?" His voice was amazingly steady, but I could hear the underlying menace.

"N-no." I stammered out my reply. "I wanted that sensation. What you did before." It had been incredible, that surge of his own sensual feeling he'd let wash through me. But there was something else about it. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Something I felt was missing in me that the experience gave back in part. I'd felt safe for a moment, as if back on familiar territory. But a blind spot came up in my mind and I couldn't pin down where that sense of safety came from.

I choked on my words as Remy snickered, then began to laugh heartily. He placed both hands on my neck, caressing the back with his fingers. "Oh mon petit, you are greedy!"

Pressing his lips tenderly down on mine, he sought entrance. Waves of euphoria swirled through my brain to spiral down my spine, flooding my nervous system. Remy entwined his fingers in mine and lifted my hands above my head. Leaning into me he placed his knee between my legs stirring my groin. I moaned helplessly into the kiss, willingly granting him entry.

"Yes." I pleaded breathlessly, beyond hope of resisting this rush of sensations. "Please. Give it to me."

I was also way beyond caring that I begged. Even if I couldn't climax physically, that energy was like a mental burst and oh so highly addictive. *Again.* I thought over and over. *Do it again.*

However, Remy wouldn't let me reach the end. He broke away, his lips trailing across my cheek as the tendrils of energy receded. It took all my willpower at that point not beg him to sustain the thrill. There still belonged to me a tiny rational bit of thought, even in the height of his affection. Apparently I wasn't completely beyond humiliation. I'd only beg so much.

Remy lapped at the water coarsing down my face, catching it as it pooled at the corners of my upturned lips. I kept my eyes closed and my mouth slightly open, relishing the constant flood of moisture past my lips. I felt raw and vulnerable and as near to broken as I'd ever been by the surge of emotions wracking my body. Remy had been right. If he kept up this torrent of feeling he'd have me, body, heart and soul. He'd have my love.

Yet it was unthinkable to push him away, to beg him to stop. And he already knew I wanted what he had to offer. It was so easy to accede when he whispered in my ear, "Wash yourself, cher. I want to watch you. I want you fresh for me tonight."

He moved back releasing my fingers. Feeling dazed and blind, I reached over to the shelf acting out of habit. Hair first, then body. My head dropped back under the shower as I lathered it well. And Remy came close again, his fingers trailing down my chest, circling once around the hardening nipples and then dipping like a tease across my stomach causing the muscles there to quiver. It was nearly impossible to concentrate on the task at hand, but I succeeded, wringing the water out of my cropped reddish-brown hair. I repeated the process out of routine, unable to really think. This time when I rinsed, Remy was even closer, twirling the strands between his fingers.

"I t'ink I'd like to see you wit' long hair. You'll grow it for me, petit." I was a statement murmured against my cheek. An order to be obeyed. So I nodded and he kissed me for my submission, swift along my cheek.

Suddenly embarrassed by how easily he played me, I moved quickly around him to retrieve the sponge. An excuse just to get away for a moment, to breath easier for a second. I could feel a flush beginning to burn across my pale skin. Remy said nothing. But I noted the frown he wore when I stood, sponge in hand.

Giving him a foolish grin, I swiveled the sponge, sudden relief washing through me when he returned my smile. And I realized that while I told myself I didn't consciously want what he had to offer, I certainly didn't want to incure his wrath either.

Stepping back under the shower, I slowly, methodically began to bathe. I think most people wouldn't equate me with sensuality. I'm not completely comfortable with my body, almost shy about it. I understand the concept of its attraction, but I can't really believe that it's beautiful as Remy told me. When I look in the mirror all I see are the peculiar ruby quartz glasses that hide my eyes and brand me a mutant, the too gaunt form that earned me the nickname 'slim', though I've worked hard to fill out my frame, and the austere facial features that bare an aloofness only magnified by my hidden eyes. I rarely smiled, never really able to relax. And my body reflected that restrictiveness. How could Remy be drawn to someone so awkward, I wondered? Perhaps my gracelessness was in itself alluring?

I couldn't dance for Remy. I couldn't perform in this sexually charged uncomfortable atmosphere. So I washed myself like I always do, painfully aware of his eyes on me. And I think my guilelessness only endeared me to him more. He stepped closer. I had turned away from him to ease the fluster I felt as he looked at me, his eyes hooded, his lust palpable. Tremors wracked my body when he ran his hands up my lathered sides. He pressed his torso across my back and slid his fingers around my chest to tweak my nipples, sending a shock of electricity down to my groin. I wriggled, trying to get away from his touch as the swell of my cock throbbed even harder. At the same time in contradiction to the pain, I pushed back into his hips, a shameless invitation for him to enter me.

"Don' stop." Remy whispered, a honeyed caress against my ear. "Touch yourself, cher." His hands worked their way lower and lower towards my painful groin, pausing at my navel to circle it over and over, forcing me to crush back against his body, keeping me where he wanted me. Remy was wringing every provocative gesture from me, eroding any resolve I had to not give into his allure. My hands moved as if possessed, gliding across my torso with the sponge in one hand, pinching the nipples with my other, undulating all the while, pleading with my body for Remy to finish it, to set me free, to give me my release. And then his hand reached the cock ring and he murmured something I never before would have found so tempting from another man. "Come for me, Scott."

The ring was released and I spasmed uncontrollably as Remy brought one of his hands down to wrap around my swollen cock giving it a gentle squeeze and a quick stroke before letting it go. God, it felt so good! The spray of the shower and the soapy lather made it so easy to slide along my flesh as my body jerked like a marionette on a wire. I dropped the bath sponge to grab myself with both hands while Remy placed one hand on my belly to hold me steady. Then he moved his other hand to cover one of my hands. He rode the movement until I reached the tip, then stroked the rosy head with his thumb, pressing into the slit. I bucked backward with a groan until he stroked back down to the root. Together, we set up a swift intense rythm. Remy purred soft words of encouragement in my ear, stirring my mind into a whorl of emotions. I thrust faster and faster, whimpering and gasping. And when he projected the feel of his hand moving on top of my hand, a finger rubbing across the tip as we reached it each time, I exploded in a forward surge, gurgling inarticulately. I saw white for several long moments. Then stars and flashes of light. Then his soft lips coming toward me through the water, murmuring his love, his desire, "Mon amour, you'll always belong to me. Mon couer. Si beau..." I was facing him now, wrapped in his arms in a sweet embrace. Oh dear God, he would have me! All I wanted to do was drown in his kiss.

But he pulled away, smearing my seed across his chest. "Scott, mon cher..." was all he had to say and I was licking my taste from him, sucking his nipples clean. My hands were on his hips holding onto him tightly and I began to move down toward his stomach. He stopped me then and lifted me back up, kissing me quickly, then setting me out of the way to let the shower cleanse him more thoroughly.

I could feel my heart drumming swiftly against my chest and my breathing was deep and steady, but rapid none the less, as I watched him. The desire to touch him was like a craving that sickened me as I stood in the cool air outside the warm spray. I leaned my head back trying to slow my breathing, ashamed and angry. How could I have succumbed so easily to him? He'd manipulated my emotions making me beg and I'd heeled like a dog to the sound of his master's voice. I caught a sob deep in my throat before it reached the air. I'd be damned if I showed him my shame. One more battle he'd have won.

A hand touched my shoulder and I opened my eyes to look at Remy, unable to disguise my pain and fury. His own eyes showed only tenderness and maybe sympathy. He understood. But it didn't change anything. Touching my cheek, he swamped my senses again with his empathy, and I calmed visibly as he took my hand. We stepped out into the bathroom and he guided me toward the archway into the mirrored room. Grabbing a fresh towel from one of the cabinets, Remy wrapped me in it and pampered me dry. My lids drooped under the onslaught of his power. I felt so tired. But then he was prodding me over to one of the sinks, placing a toothbrush into my hand, and telling me to brush. His power receded and I felt drained of my anger and shame. I did what he told me to.

Remy dried himself off quickly, then brushed his teeth also. When we'd finished, he patted the counter of the sink and told me to sit up on it. He produced a comb from one of the drawers and proceeded to comb out my hair. I almost fell asleep under his gentle touch. But before I could dose off, he was done and handed me the comb. I ran it through his hair, trying to match his gentleness, but his locks were longer and a little more difficult to untangle. He cursed at me a few times, but didn't threaten to punish. I gave him a sad smile in the mirror and he quieted. "No cher, it's okay. Just don' pull so hard."


	17. Part XVII

When I'd finished combing his hair into one smooth silky wave, we went back into his bedroom, Remy grabbing his robe and me helping him into it. The smell of food immediately hit me and sent a wave of nausea rolling through my stomach. I grabbed Remy's shoulder to keep from stumbling, putting my other hand to my belly.

"Oh, mon petit." Remy said, his voice full of concern. "De food? Is de smell to much for you?" He wrapped a steadying arm around my waist as I nodded. "It will pass in a moment. It's been too long since you've had a full meal. We'll take it slow, cher. A few bites to see how you'll handle it."

I took a deep breath as the nausea lessened. But now the pangs of hunger were sharp and I wouldn't pass up this opportunity to eat till I was stuffed. "I'm okay. It smells okay now. Just took me by surprise."

Remy smiled, his expression showing he knew I'd lie through my teeth to get at the food. "Perhaps we should wait 'til you feel better." He teased. "I'll have de servants take de table away."

"No!" I cried clutching his shoulder tighter. "Really...Master. I'm fine." Remy chuckled but said nothing else as he led me over to small dining table set in front of the fireplace. Again that sense of romance came to me as I looked at the elegant setting. Two small delicately worked silver candleholders sat in the middle with two white candles burning softly. A crystal vase with one red rose sat between them. But there was only one place set for dining. The rest of the table held silver covered serving dishes. And there was only one chair. I looked at the setup in confusion for a moment until Remy lowered himself into the seat and said, "Kneel, pet. Here beside me."

I closed my eyes and rubbed my face with a fatigued anger that came close to depression. How long was it going to take to sink in that Remy wasn't going to treat me like an equal? I was his pet as he said. His slave. This one command deflated me, and humiliation ran through me. Was he going to feed me from his hand too? With bitter resignation and a heavy sigh, I dropped to my knees and waited.

As if on cue, Henri opened the door and came in. He went around to the other side of Remy. "My Lord, shall I serve you now?"

Remy rubbed Henri's upper arm affectionately. "Mon petit, have you finished your lessons today?" Henri bit his lip nervously. "Well...I..."

Remy ruffled his hair and began to speak to him in French. Henri replied, occasionally receiving a tut-tut from his lord. I kept my head down, not understanding a word, silent and brooding. Finally Remy said to Henri in English, "You need to study, petit. A gentleman's gentleman must be well educated, Henri. And I wouldn't feel dat it was right to get you dat new Final Fantasy game de next time I go to Earth, if you don' know your lessons." Remy winked at the boy as Henri's eyes got wide.

"I'm sorry, sir." He said. "I'll study harder. I promise."

Remy laughed. "Of course, petit. A little encouragement helps perhaps. G'on, cher. We'll serve ourselves. I won't need you tonight." I looked up to see Henri smile brightly back at Remy. Then he ran like the little boy he was to the door. "And don' stay up too late on dat playstation!" Remy hollared at him as he skipped out the door. As it slammed shut, he looked down at me. "Kids. What a joy in life, non?"

I just looked at him evenly, trying to betray no emotion. But his smile faltered and his eyes narrowed slightly. "What is it, Scott?"

"Nothing." I muttered. "Nothing." When I looked down, Remy raised my chin to look at me.

"Non. Somet'ing's de matter. You'll answer me."

"What do you want me to say?" I asked. Then I spoke candidly. He wanted the truth, I'd give it to him. "I hate this. I hate how you treat me. Like some pet. What's next? Are you planning on feeding me table scraps with your hand. I'm no dog!"

"Of course not, cher!" Remy smiled again wickedly. Then his eye grew serious. "But you are too willful right now. I told you that at this point you wouldn't like what I'd ask of you. But a slave must be brought to heel. You must understand your place, petit."

"Fine." I snarled.

Remy grasped my jaw tightly. "Don' take dat tone wit' me, Scott. You wouldn't want to experience de punishment I deal for unruly slaves, believe me."

He tossed my head back, irritated for the moment. "Now, you are hungry, eh?"

Still a bit recalcitrant, I nodded. "And yes," Remy added as if to heighten the sting of humiliation, "you will eat from my hand, mon choit."

I took in a sharp irritated breath and let it out just as sharply. To which Remy made a tut-tut noise. He'd have none of my obstinant attitude. I dropped my head and plucked absently at the rug. I felt him watch me for a moment, even expected a blow for my disrespect, but then he leaned forward and began to inspect the dishes laid out in front of him.

"Mmmmmm." I looked up to see him with one hand holding the silver cover of one of the entrees. His eyes were closed and he was taking a delighted sniff. Food was almost as good as sex for him. "Si bien. Delicious." He looked down at me then. "Hope you like Cajun, cher."

My eyebrows crinkled in puzzlement. "I always ate the crap you served." I retorted. Strange he didn't remember that.

Remy hesitated. For a moment he seemed uncertain. Then he placed the cover back over the serving dish and sat back, chuckling. "Oui. But I don't recall you ever telling me you liked my cooking. I t'ought it was some stoic fearless leader act. Boost de morale or somet'ing. Or maybe Jean made you eat it." He winked at me and I couldn't help but give him a weak smile.

"No. I really liked some of it." I told him honestly.

"Good. Your baby brot'er don' like it much. Strictly Midwestern meat n' potatoes, dat homme."

I laughed, surprisingly good naturedly. "That's Alex for you. Always was a picky eater."

Remy's look became devious. "Oui. But he ate every bite, like a good little boy."

I looked away as my ire rose, biting back the retort. Was Remy trying to push my buttons? Did he want to hit me again? Or was he just testing me, seeing if I would push back?

"M'chef is excellent." He continued, his tone once again friendly. "But I tol' him not to make de meal so spicy. I didn't t'ink your stomach would be able to take it."

My eyes shot up at him, surprised. He was concerned? I somehow found that hard to believe, even after all that had happened. I guess I just figured he'd use that empathetic power for his own agenda, to make me believe he cared, while in truth he was just being selfish. But now he'd consciously made decisions that would effect my comfort. I shook my head for a moment. Did he really care about me? And could I use this for my advantage? I tucked this thought back in the corner of my mind for later examination.

"Crawfish boulette." Remy was saying. He held what looked to be a meatball in his hand, dripping with a light brown sauce. I could feel my mouth start to water as he popped it into his mouth. "No' to spicy." He said after he swallowed it down. Then he picked up another and held it front of me. My lips parted slightly as I looked at it like it was the answer to all my prayers. I lusted for that morsel. Smiling, Remy touched it to my lips. "Cher?" I closed my eyes and opened my mouth wider. Like a priest bestowing communion, Remy placed it on my tongue, his fingers brushing across the tastebuds lightly to tease my senses, then he drew back to let me eat. My stomach rumbled appreciatively as I sank my teeth into the delicacy. It nearly melted under the heat of my breath, it was that tender. And so very tasty. Salty with a sharp tang. I swallowed it quickly and then sat quiet, suddenly afraid that I'd eaten it too fast. I waited, nervous that my stomach would give. But it only rolled a little and no waves of nausea crashed over me.

Then a sharp pang of hunger hit me and I looked up at Remy, my eyes beseeching him. It was all I could do not to beg for more. He was still smiling. "Good?"

"Yeah." I breathed. "Give my compliments to your chef." He snorted with laughter and picked up another boulette. His fingers cupped the sauce as he lifted the tidbit and he held his other hand under it to collect the sauce that dripped from it. This time, when he placed the morsel on my tongue, he kept his fingers between my lips, running them over my teeth and gums as I chewed. When I had swallowed, he said, "Try de sauce. C'est bon."

Somewhat reluctantly I let his fingers slip in between my teeth and licked at the juice. But one taste was all I needed before I was sucking pleasantly on the proferred flesh. After I'd finished, he placed his other hand over my mouth and let the juice it held drip down onto my tongue. And again I reached up to lick his hand clean. As I finished and Remy's hand moved back up to the table, Alex's words came back to me from a week ago, *You'll be eating out of his hand by the end of the week.* I grimaced at the thought. Damn him. Him and Alex.

A rich creamy smell assaulted my nose and I blinked from my anger to see a spoon being held in front of me. "Oyster and artichoke soup, mon ami. One of m'favorites. Served in de finest resturants in New Orleans." My ire vanished under the scent and I sipped from the spoon then slurped it down. A tiny dribble ran down my chin, but before I could wipe it off, Remy was there, kissing it away and sending my blood straight down to my groin. Sensing the arousal, he let his lips move up and over mine. His tongue slipped in almost without my knowledge until I felt him tasting the thick broth in my mouth. I suckled his tongue and hummed delightfully as the tangy flavor of the meatball he'd eaten mixed with the rich soup, bursting on my tastebuds.

Remy pulled away without warning causing my teeth to knock. He sat up looking at me, his expression unreadable. I almost groaned at the abrupt departure. Then he shook his head, "Non." He said this mostly to himself, His face softening as he gazed at me. "Do dat again and I'll take you right here, mon amour." Exhaling with a slight tremor to his voice he added, "You wouldn't want dis food to go to waste now, would you?"

I shook my head slowly and he nodded. Then he turned back to the table and reached for the bottle of wine. "Gaja Boralo Sperss." Remy seemed to want to tell me exactly what he was feeding me. Perhaps to impress, though I wouldn't have really known the expense of the food. "De word Sperss means 'profound longing'. I find dat moving for some reason. And de wine itself is fantastique. Got dis bottle jus' for you, cher. Very rare."

I smiled up at him then and said, "Only one bottle?"

Remy caught my meaning and smiled back, enjoying the joke. "I'm not taking de chance of you getting drunk, hein. I know your head for alcohol. You don' 'ave one."

 

This was true. I never drank much. Not even wine. Consquently, whenever I did have alcohol it didn't take long for me to get drunk. It was a standing joke at every Christmas to try and keep me from the eggnog, a minor weakness of mine. I'd usually have two or three glasses and then get all sentimental. Made most of the other X-men uncomfortable. Especially Logan, because it was usually him I cornered in my tipsy state, asking him why we couldn't just get along and why he was so angry all the time and didn't he think Jean was just gorgeous tonight. Fortunately for me, he took it in stride until Jean came to the rescue by dragging me away, chiding me for drinking more than I should. And then I'd wake up the next morning with a raging hangover and so embarassed I'd just hide in my room until Jean dragged me out. All from just a few drinks.

"And I'm not gonna let you miss a minute of dis night." Remy was saying with mischievious grin. I glowered at him, making him chuckle. "Can't get out of it dat easy, cher."

He popped the cork and poured a cup, setting it to my lips. "Jus' a sip, petit." But before he could react I grabbed his hands and gulped the liquid down. It burned as it hit my throat, but I didn't care. Numb would be good. A hangover would be fantastic, if I just didn't have to feel him fuck me, knowing, though trying hard not to admit, that I was more than likely going to enjoy it.

Remy pulled the goblet roughly from my mouth with a snarl. "I tol' you non!" Drops of wine splashed across my chest and his legs, before he steadied the cup. He slammed it down on the table, causing more to splash over the surface, dripping to the floor. Without thinking I lapped at the fluid as it ran down. But then he pushed me back and lifted his hand as if to strike me. I flinched, gritting my teeth, and waited for the blow. It didn't come. And he was laughing. I scowled at him. His face came down, inches from mine. "You don' know how silly you looked just then. And now wit' de wine drops all over your face. Not de fearless leader we all know an' love." I blushed in anger as he kissed away the droplets, letting the tip of his tongue run across my cheeks, then eyes, then nose.

I turned my head away, irritated. "Stop it."

"Oh. Not so eager for me as for de wine, eh?" Remy sat back with a smirk. "You stickin' to water now." He added in a mildly dangerous tone. I just looked at him. Drunk would have been wonderful, but water would certainly be more quenching. I wouldn't argue.

Taking a napkin from the table, Remy wiped the rest of the wine up from his legs and the surface of the table. Then he threw it at me. "Wipe dat off your chest." He muttered a Cajun curse as he sat back up and poured a glass of water.

He was annoyed now. I couldn't be completely certain, but I had my suspicions that the irritation came from the idea that I would rather be drunk when we fucked. After the scene in the bathroom, the way he'd made me feel, I suppose he thought I was eager for it, willing. Now he knew that I wasn't and it grated on his ego. He wouldn't say much now. Just told me what we were eating and fed me bit by bit, not seeming to take as much pleasure from it as he had from the start.

Despite his mood and his constant spooning of food into my mouth, I relished the meal. After we'd finished the soup, he fed me several more of the meatballs. Only once did he let his fingers linger in between my lips, and only for a moment. We ate Boudin blanc, a hot spicy pork dish, and okra and tomatoes for the main course. Remy ate most of the Boudin, his favorite. I almost had to ask him for a bite, he seemed to want it all for himself. And when I touched his thigh he nearly jumped. When he looked down at me his mood seemed to lighten just a little. But realizing what I wanted his eyes went cold again. However, he gave me some more of the delicious entree, so I didn't care much that he was still vexed by my subtle resistance. If he was mad because I wasn't going to fall madly into his arms and declare him my life and my master, it was his own damn fault for trying to keep me as a slave. As long as he fed me, I could care less how he felt. I almost laughed at the idea that I'd hurt his feelings.

After the main course, he served me gateau sirop, a type of cake with cane syrup that tasted mostly of ginger. As a compliment to the spicy pork and salty vegetables it was absolute heaven. And I said so. Remy chuckled and gave me more. By this time my legs had become numb from sitting for so long on my knees, and seeing him in a more tolerant mood I asked if I could shift positions. He waved his hand at me as he dug into the dessert, enjoying it immensely himself. I moved to straighten my legs out to the side, working out the pins and needles with my fingers. Looking down, I realized the cock ring wasn't on. I don't know why that struck me funny. Perhaps because it had been my constant companion for the entire week. But I looked back up at Remy with a spark of gratitude. Noticing my stare, he glanced down at me. Then he looked closer, not really certain what he was seeing. Crooking a finger under my chin, he lifted it to get a better look. As I parted my lips unconsciously he dove in to capture them, taking me passionately and with a bruising force. My head swam at the emotions. Remy had felt my gratitude and he'd warmed to it. That need for some kind of positive feeling from me was strong.

There was a knock at the door.


	18. Part XVIII

Remy drew back with a growl. "Come!" He barked. The door opened and a guard stepped in. "Pardon M'lord, but Councillor Escalada wishes to speak with you. He insists his business is urgent."

I looked from the guard to Remy, watching a black look cross his features and then vanish just as quickly. "Show him in." He ordered with a dismissive wave.

As the guard shut the door quietly to go escort the Councillor in, Remy threw his napkin onto the table muttering something under his breath. I continued to watch him, curious. He seemed to have forgotten me for the moment as he rose from the table, tying his robe tighter around his waist. Now he was Remy Lebeau, patriarch and politician. A seriousness had descended on his face.

There was a brief staccato rap at the door, then a tall, proud man entered as Remy crossed the room. "Frederico!" He cried, clasping the man on the shoulders and pulling him into a warm embrace. The Councillor returned his affection stiffly, appearing only to suffer the embrace has his duty required. Then he stepped back with a thin smile.

Councillor Frederico Escalada was a broad shouldered powerfully built man in his 40's, bald with a thin raven mustache. His lips were as thin as the mustache and his chin was sharply angled and lifted in mild distain. He had dark eyes set deep in his head, giving him a sinister look. His nose was aristocratic and slender. Olive complected, he wore a stark white jacket and pants, reminiscent of military, but with no trimming or insignia to signify his rank. It seemed to deepen the color of his skin, giving him a darker look that intimidated. The way he carried himself with a haughtiness that showed only a cursory respect for Remy's office magnified that intimidation.

When he spoke, his voice was low but commanding, easily carrying out over the room. "I am sorry to disturb you at this late hour M'lord." His tone said otherwise. "But I've been with Ambassador Moliere for nearly the entire day. He and his advisors insist that you have an answer for him in the morning."

"De Marcuso treaty?" Remy inquired.

The Coucillor nodded. "I have tried to explain to them that you have been out of the country this past week. But they clearly do not care."

With his back to me, I couldn't see Remy's face. But the way he straightened as if to tower over the slightly taller man reflected his anger at Moliere's audacity. "Dey have little right to insist on m'immediate attention in this matter. And little less to negotiate wit'. Tell Moliere dat I will have an answer by tomorrow evening at de earliest. If he's not satisfied by dat, den he may leave and we'll negotiate later on de battlefield. Dey can take deir chances wit' my men already stationed in deir country."

One corner of Escalada's mouth twitched upward. "Very good, M'lord. This ambassador seems to think above his station. Perhaps a threat backed up by force is the only way to handle him and his people."

"D'ccord." Remy put his hand out to receive the papers Escalada held. "I'll look dese over tonight." He sighed. "I'd rather not go to war over a few trifling demands dey might make. Hopefully somet'ing can be arranged."

The Councillor brightened and something of a genuine smile grew on his face and in his eyes. "You know you have the full backing of the Council on anything you decide."

"I know, Frederico. And I t'ank you for dat. I'll have dese read by de afternoon."

Escalada placed a supportive hand on Remy's shoulder. "Don't tire yourself M'lord. You've had a long week. With the Vincenti giving you trouble, you've probably had little rest." Strange to see this man grin, but suddenly he did. "And with your ridiculous rule of taking no slaves with you on your trips, no one to warm your bed and relieve the stress. I wouldn't expect the Vincenti's to offer a pleasure slave."

I heard Remy snort as I listened intently to their conversation. I kept my head bowed submissively, all the while locking into my memory the information they gave out freely. Moliere, Marcuso treaty, Vincenti, Frederico Escalada, the council. All this knowledge might be put to use at some later date.

Out of my periphery I saw Remy turn a little toward me smiling. "Dis is true. But I've had good reason not to take a slave wit' me dis time."

The Councillor turned a piercing eye in my direction, noticing me for the first time. He arched an eyebrow. "Ah. The rumors are true." He affirmed. "The brother?"

Remy nodded. "I wanted to keep him to m'self a bit longer before the courtiers began pleading for a look."

"Well then, I am truly sorry for disturbing you." I could feel his curious hard gaze on me. An embarrassing flush crept up my skin when he asked, "Is he a virgin?"

Remy clucked and shook a finger at the man's directness. All the same he smiled saying, "Oui. He's been in training for de week. Made it difficult doing business wit' de Vincenti's knowing all de while he was here being prepared for me. But den anticipation is half de fun, non?"

The Councillor laughed. "You have the patience of a saint M'lord." He made a curt gesture in my direction with his hand. "May I?"

Remy stepped back and turned waving his own hand. "But of course, mon ami. Den you can explain to de ot'er councillors why I won' be in attendance dis week." Escalada snorted and the two men walked toward me.

"Stand up, Scott." My master ordered.

I rose stifly to my feet. The sharp sting of pain from kneeling in one position for so long had hardly begun to lessen in intensity. I curled my toes gingerly into the rug and looked at the two men warily. They had stopped just at the end of the couch.

"Come over here, petit." Remy crooked a finger at me.

With a great deal of trepidation and discomfort from my needling calves, I made my way slowly around the couch to the two men. Councillor Escalada's question left me apprehensive. What was Remy giving permission for? Was I expect to pleasure this man in some way?

As I stood there waiting and wondering in a stony silence, Escalada placed an appraising hand on my left arm saying, "Ah, he's fine, Remy. A real piece of work." He held my gaze as if looking for something. "And still not quite tamed. Make sure you don't break all the wildness out of him."

Remy stood to my right smiling with pride. He raised a hand and place a finger between my shoulder blades, letting it drift leisurely down my spine. "Of course not. I appreciate a little spirit." My lips curled slightly in anger and humiliation. They were discussing me like an animal. I was disgusted by their talk. And slightly aroused, which further intensified my rage. I wanted to lash out, but with Remy and the guards so near I'd probably just get Alex punished for my outburst. So instead I drew inward, trying to ignore them. My eyes moved upward and to the left to look over the Councillor's shoulder, focusing on the door.

"You have a keen eye." He praised as his left hand came up to stroke my cheek and push a lock of hair out of my eye. He did not mention the fact that I looked away and not down submissively as I most likely was suppose to do. But then he liked the 'wildness' in me.

"Merci."

I twitched a bit under Escalada's touch. His hand ran along my jaw and then he placed his thumb between my lips to tease my bottom lip down. Immediately, I ground my teeth together as he stepped closer and turned my furious eyes back on him. I wasn't going to suck his fingers, no matter what.

But his fingers only pried open my lips, checking the teeth and gums, assessing me with a trained eye as one would examine a stallion he intended to purchase. When he was satisfied by what he'd seen he dropped his hand to my shoulder feeling the muscle and bone structure. I was sorely tempted to step back from this demeaning inspection, but Remy had placed a warning hand at the curve of my spine.

I endured his kneading and fondling as stoically as I could. My eyes blazed in anger, but I tried to keep my face passive and my hands loose at my sides. It was all I could do not to violently push him away from me. I wanted to take a swing at him and nearly did when he lifted my cock for closer examination. Instead I jumped, falling back against Remy's steadying hand.

Escalada had been speaking to Remy as he fondled me, pinching my nipples to harden them, running a finger around my navel, raking his nails through the hair at my groin. Concentrating so hard on not lashing out, I didn't hear what he'd been saying. But as he stroked me erect I looked into his cruel eyes and his words jolted me.

"Good stock. Very responsive." I snarled. For a moment he mocked me with his look. But then he turned his gaze on my hardening shaft. One hand ran up and down along the sensitive underside, while his other hand grasped my ball sack, massaging the testicles gently between his fingers. I could feel the embarrassing flush of humiliation and arousal further reddening my face. "You really should breed him, M'lord. His children would fetch an excellent price on the market."

Escalada looked over my shoulder at Remy as his hand continued caressing me. As much as I tried to ignore the sensations, my body responded to his touch. I was very close to climaxing.

"You know my interest in breeding. I can see he'd make a marvelous stud. It's my talent. I have an eye for these things. I've produced many excellent slaves at my ranch."

"I've considered it, mon ami." Remy said thoughtfully. I gasped from the warmth of his breath on my ear. I hadn't realized he'd come so near. My hips involuntarily began to thrust as the councillor now fisted my prick. But as a small drop of pre-cum oozed from the head of my angry swollen cock, Escalada pinched hard on a spot just below my sack. I cursed and pulled away ignoring Remy's hand. Before I could get further back, however, Remy grabbed my arm, digging his fingers painfully into my flesh to hold me in place. The councillor chuckled.

"Very responsive."

Remy smiled. "If you ever wish to breed him," Escalada continued arrogantly, "let me know. I have several mares that I'm certain would take to him. Their pedigree is impeccable."

Nodding to the councillor and releasing his grip on my arm, Remy said, "I'll be certain to seek your advice should I ever decide to breed him or his brot'er."

"Ah yes. The blond." Escalada replied. "How could I forget him. He's quite striking. But then I prefer blonds."

Remy laughed. "How I remember, Frederico." He took the Councillor's arm then, guiding him to the door. "But I'm not ready to share my brot'ers right now. I've yet to fully enjoy Scott." I'd stepped back toward the end of the couch when he said this. Looking up at the back of his head I threw him a furious look. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go over de documents in private."

"Certainly M'lord." Escalada gave a quick leering glance in my direction before bidding Remy goodnight and stepping out into the hallway. I breathed a quick angry sigh of relief as the door shut.


	19. Part XIX

When Remy turned to look at me the rage I had felt at the whole humiliating examination hit me like a kick to the gut. "Dammit, Remy! I will NOT be a stud!"

"You'll be whatever I want you to be, pet." He replied with a menacing calm.

I scowled at him. "Well why don't you just kidnap Jean then." I quipped. "A lot of people seem to think we'd have genetically perfect kids."

"Don' tempt me." Remy came toward me almost warily. I felt a tightness in my chest and a churn of fear in my belly when he said those words. Yet I pushed back at him, still furious at the whole miserable incident.

"Christ!" I spat at him. "You're as bad as Sinister!" One look at Remy's face as he stopped dead in his tracks told me I'd just gone over the line. His eyes began to glow. When he spoke, his tone was low and his words concise and controlled. A shiver snaked up my spine and I felt a warmth underneath the collar around my neck.

"Never compare me to dat madman." Was the collar growing hotter? I reached up to touch it and yanked my fingers back immediately with a supressed yelp. The collar burned with kinetic power. Remy had charged the device. It was a timebomb. If Remy let it explode it'd crush my throat and decapitate me. Fear gripped me further in the immediacy of the situation.

"No." I whispered in terror.

"I've allowed you too much leniency, Scott. And you've wounded me, cher." He came closer. "P'etetre I made a mistake wit' you. P'etetre you can't be tamed."

I stared at him in fear. The heat intensified and I began to feel pain. And the pain created a blazing defiance. Fear turned to anger and hatred. I wasn't going to back down on this. I wouldn't be bred out like a prized stud. Sinister had done that to me once without my knowledge. And Maddie had been his brood mare. My son had been lost to time because of madmen. I would not, could not allow Remy to use me in this way and to lose what children I sired to slavery.

"You're right Remy." I threw the name out deliberately this time with a reckless rebelliousness to push him even further. " I won't be tamed! Do it! If you have the balls!"

"Amende alors." Remy smiled maliciously. "Is dere a final message you'd like me to give to Alex, me?"

The room grew deathly still as we looked at one another. I could feel a prickly itch begin to rise on my throat. My fists were clenched tight. Everything seemed to hinge on this moment. And I was caught in a very deadly showdown. Was Remy bluffing? Should I...Could I call his bluff?

But Alex. Damn Alex. I turned my anger on my brother. I couldn't die like this. Not after I'd yelled at him for wanting to die. Not after I'd promised him we'd get through this together. Damn him.

I closed my eyes tightly feeling the slow smoldering intensity of the burn from the collar. "Okay." I breathed swallowing every ounce of pride and defiance I had left. No. Suddenly my mind screamed. Not even for Alex! No child of mine would be lost to this sick, twisted world. No child of mine would ever be born here. Not even for my brother. I lifted my chin in fury. "Tell Alex 'not even for him'. He'll understand."

I saw it for only an instant. Remy faultered. There was surprise and a spark of anxiety in his eyes for a fleeting moment. Then it vanished in the wake of a devious smile. "Scott, mon cher, how could I ever share you wit' anyone." His voice was sickly sweet. I could here the menace underneath. "You really t'ink I'd give you to Frederico for breeding? I despise dat man and his 'ranch'. It's one t'ing to bring an adult, wit' all dier sins, into slavery. It's another to raise a petit into dat life. I don' breed m'slaves." His fingers curled ever so slightly and I had to believe he was lying. He was trying to find a way out of his bluff that would allow me to live without letting me gain some power in the knowing that he didn't want me dead. "But someone needs to be punished for your insolence, hein. Perhaps I bring your brot'er up and punish him in your place."

Shit. I could see he meant that. I'd called his bluff on killing me. But that didn't mean he wouldn't hurt Alex. I began to doubt what I'd believed. Perhaps Remy wouldn't breed me. Perhaps he did think it was wrong. He had some moral sense. I'd seen that earlier. And if he was going to back down from killing me, there was no sense in letting Alex take the blame for my outburst. The talk of breeding and selling children into slavery still wrankled, but perhaps Remy and I could come to a negotiation of sorts.

"Okay." I said. "Leave Alex out of this. I shouldn't have said what I did. But I'll take my own life before I become your stud." That set him off guard for a moment.

"I tol' you de breeding is distastful to me, cher. I don' care what your children be wort'. I won' 'ave you sire dem into slavery." He narrowed his eyes, giving me a hard look. "But your tongue is anot'er story. I won' 'ave you backtalking me. Dat can' go ignored."

I breathed a bit easier. Remy sounded sincere. The threat of taking my life seemed to set him back a pace. He'd think twice about breeding me. But now I needed to get his mind off Alex. "I'm sorry." I began. "I was out of line. I can see you're not at all like Sinister." He glared at me, reading the sarcasm in my tone despite all my efforts to keep my voice even. I rushed on to stop him from lashing out. "I was caught in the moment. You have to understand that after being used by Sinister to father Nathan, I have an aversion to the idea of being bred like some prize stallion."

"D'ccord." Remy conceded. But the collar continued to burn around my neck.

"I'm sorry." I said again. "Please forgive my outburst." I tried to force as much repentence in my look as I could.

"Oh, mon cher, you're going to 'ave to do a whole lot better dan dat." Remy took a step toward me as he placed the papers in his hand on the back of the couch. His head was bowed slightly, his eyes turned up, and lips curled in a lethal smirk. The collar still glowed with his power. I stood very, very still watching him, waiting for him to explain, to instruct. But he only gazed back, expecting me to figure it all out on my own. My mind reeled for several moments. And then I did what I hoped would sooth his anger and stroke his ego. I stepped toward him saying, "Master, forgive me." Then I pressed my lips to him with as much tenderness as I could muster.

Remy remained stiff and unswerving. His hands hung at his sides refusing to touch me. I could feel his jaw tense. He kept his lips tightly closed. I'd have put some serious effort into my apology to convince him of my sincerity. Or at least convince him that I'd be an obediant slave and keep Alex out of trouble.

Since he wouldn't open his mouth, I glided my lips down along his jawline to loosen the tension there. My hands went to his hips to pull him in close, our cocks nestled side by side with only the thin silky fabric of his robe as a barrier. Remy said nothing, which encouraged me. At least he wasn't talking of further punishment. But he wouldn't move much either. I could feel a tickle at the back of my neck and knew it was his empathetic power assessing my honesty. At least he could feel my desire. Though I'd tried to fight it, I couldn't deny it. And so I gave in to it and let him feel how my body wanted him. It certainly wasn't love, but I hoped it would be enough to convince him I'd behave. I let the sensation flow outward as my tongue worked its way to the hollow of Remy's throat. My left hand slid around to grab his ass as the fingers of my right hand ran lightly up his spine to caress the back of his neck.

I held back a smile when I felt him quiver and right after draw the kinetic power back into himself. Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief, but knew I couldn't stop. Nor did I really want to, now that my need had been let loose. My prick was coming back to life.

Bending my head down, I nudged the robe aside and took one of his nipples gently between my teeth, touching it with the tip of my tongue. Remy latched onto my shoulders with a crushing grip and a hiss. "Mais oui." He murmured. But then he pushed me away.

"I should 'ave you whipped, petit morue." He growled. But there was hint of amusement in his tone.

I gave him a mischievious grin. "But Master, you wouldn't want to scar me, would you?"

Remy caressed my cheek saying, "There are ways to have you beaten dat leave no permanent mark, cher."

It was my turn to shiver. "Would you like to experience dat, petit?" He continued deadly serious. "To be whipped until de adrenalin kicks in an you can' tell de difference 'tween pleasure and pain. I don' do it dat often, and never to my newest slaves. But perhaps in your case I might make an exception. You're trying my patience, hein."

This silenced me completely and I dropped my head in defeat. I'd been beaten before. At the orphanage. And the humiliation of the act resurfaced in me. The pain wasn't the worst part of being tied down and paddled until I couldn't sit for a week. It was the loss of dignity and the loss of control. Remy could bring back all those childhood fears in me and reduce me to a whimpering idiot begging for him to stop. I didn't think I could stand that.

He lifted my chin, ordering me to look at him. The hopelessnesss was evident there in my eyes. I couldn't hold it back. But he let fall the final blow, branding the anguish on my being as he said, "I can always do dat, Scott. I can take you to the depths of hell if I wan'. Dere's no escape."

Remy searched my eyes adding cruelly. "And I can 'ave your brot'er punished right dere in front of you, begging for you to tell him why he's being flogged."

I closed my eyes. One tear escaped and trickled down my cheek. Remy wiped it tenderly away saying, "Is dat what you want, cher? Is it too painful to respect me and obey me dat you'd endure punishment and take your brot'er wit' you?"

I shook my head.

"Bein." Remy nodded, retrieving the documents and moving around me. "Den we'll 'ave no more of your defiance, me. You know de price. And I can always make you pay, mon cher."

He walked around to the couch, ignoring me for the moment and settled in a corner of the U-shape, extending his legs casually upon the seat as he began to finger through the papers. I stood there uncertainly, wondering what I should do now. Hoping he'd tell me what to do. But he kept on skimming the contents of the treaty.

I started when without warning he yelled for the guard. One immediately stepped in. "M'lord?"

Without looking up, Remy said, "Get Peter to take de table away and bring me a pot of Cafe Brulet. As strong as he can make it."

The guard nodded and stepped back out closing the door. I looked over at the table a bit longingly and then back at Remy. I squeezed my fists anxiously. He still refused to acknowledge me and I wasn't sure if I should approach him. I continued to stare at him.

Finally, as if he suddenly realized I was behind him, he looked around at me, his red eyes still glowing. "Mais, come here pet." His tone was chiding, insinuating that I was a fool for not knowing I was to come to him. I followed his path around the couch and stood in front of him. "Sit." He said patting the area next to him. Nervously I sat down, my hands digging into the edge of the couch.

"Merde!" Remy sighed. "Must I tell you everyt'ing? Lay down and put your head in my lap."

Gingerly I did as I was told, resting my head over his lap. Remy wasn't quite aroused, thankfully, and I relaxed a bit stretching my legs out and resting my hands on my stomach, butterflys churning inside. I closed my eyes and swallowed.

"Comfortable, mon amour?" I looked up to see him gazing down at me, his face unreadable. I nodded despite my unease. I wasn't sure what he was about now and that worried me. He smiled slightly and went back to reading the page he was on. I watched him, still uncertain. Then I closed my eyes. Whatever was going to happen, I couldn't prevent. So I decided I might as well enjoy this luxury of doing nothing. After a moment, Remy's hand began to stroke my hair. Then he moved it to my chest, idly running his fingers across my skin, plucking at the nipples every once in awhile. My whole body shook when he first touched me, but then I settled into the caress, breathing deep. Soon my head lolled to the side and I dozed.

When I woke, Remy was still perusing the documents and drinking from a bone china cup. There was a tall silver kettle sitting on the coffee table, next to a china milk container and sugar bowl. Remy felt me stir and looked down. "Did you 'ave a nice nap, mon couer?" He asked pleasantly.

"Yes." I replied, adding somewhat shyly, "Thank you."

He smiled affectionately and nodded. Then he sat up, wordlessly telling me to move, and placed his feet on the floor. I sat up beside him as he put the cup and papers down on the table. He stretched his shoulders and neck, popping the tension away and then leaned in to kiss me. It was soft and chaste. And set my heart to beat more rapidly. Then pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger, he stood up.

"Come on, petit. Time for bed."


	20. Part XX

Unenthusiastic and tense, I followed Remy over toward the bed. He stopped briefly by the door to turn off the overhead lights, leaving the room in a soft glow from the burning candles along the walls and the dying fire in the hearth. Motioning me over to the bed, he crossed to the window and pulled the curtains, closing out the city. Then he turned to look at me with an alluring smile and dropped his robe from his shoulders. I'd trudged over to stand by the side of the bed near one of the posts at the end, waiting and shifting nervously from foot to foot. I expected him to come to me then as he disrobed, throwing the garment on one of the chairs he sauntered by. Instead, he went around me, brushing me lightly on the hip with his fingers to send a shiver through my body. He stood at the foot of the bed for half a second before leaping into the air with a childish glee, swan-diving into the soft down.

"La vie est bonne!" Remy cried as he landed, the end of the sentence muffled in the mattress.

I had to laugh as he lay spread eagle, face down on the bed for several minutes. Finally he tucked an arm under his head and looked back at me with a ravishing heavy-lidded gaze. He raised his other hand to tap a small drawer fixed in the headboard.

"Dere's some oil in dere." Remy said in a husky voice. "I wan' you to massage my back. Get de tension out. Been a long day, me."

My lips twitched up into a small satisfied smile trying not to give to much away as I jumped at the chance to lull Remy to sleep, putting minutes, perhaps hours, between the inevitable. Alex had spent the better part of a day instructing me on basic and sensual massage. He'd been very complimentary of my touch. And had expressed surprise to find me a natural masseuse. But if he'd talked to Jean he would have known I was good at it. I use to rub her back often. We'd even read a few books on the subject. My typical determination to be the best had made me a quick learner. And inspite of my uptight manner in public, I did have a sensitive side. I just never thought I'd ever have to expose it to Remy Lebeau.

I still needed a good bit of instruction, Alex had said. It would be one of my duties, he'd explained. But I'd been able to put my brother to sleep for several hours. Of course there was no telling how Remy would react.

Climbing onto the bed, I straddled Remy's hips and reached over his shoulder to get the bottle of oil from the drawer. Splashing a few drops onto my hands I worked the liquid between my palms to warm it. The scent was light, a mixture of cinnamon and spice that tingled in my nostrils, reminding me of Christmas. It complimented the rich texture of fabrics on the bed and the soft warm atmosphere of the room. A picture of Jean and me snuggling in front of the fireplace in the house we lived in during our time in Alaska crept into my mind. Snowbound and happy to be alone with just one another, we were semi-retired and far away from the often tense, sometimes tedious world of mutant activity. We felt almost normal. Human.

I shook the image away almost violently. I would not think of Jean on this night. I would NOT think of Jean, I swore inwardly. I would not taint my image of her with the reality of my existence at this moment. Finally believing I'd been able to banish thoughts of her from my mind, I began to spread the oil evenly across Remy's pale smooth back. He wiggled appreciatively and stretched like a cat. Then he settled into the soft mattress, head on his crossed arms, sighing blissfully. My touch was efficient and solid. First, soft downward strokes to establish calm. Next, I kneaded his tense shoulders, digging the tips of my fingers into the hollows, working the oil into his pores to loosen the flesh. As I leaned forward, I listened to his breathing slow as he let out a contented exhale with a quiet murmur.

Running two fingers down either side of his spine, I reached the small of his back, satisfied to feel the muscles twitch between my caress. Using my thumbs, I drove them in a circular manner up his spine, slowly, pressing on each vertabrae one at a time. His muscles continued to quiver for a few seconds until they calmed under my touch. My inward smile grew, but I kept my facial expression neutral in case he should look up. I was fairly certain he was falling asleep. I couldn't have been more wrong. I'd underestimated him once. Stupid of me to do it again. Perhaps a week without honing my combat skills in the Danger Room was weakening my ability to analyze a situation or read people. Perhaps I wasn't thinking quite clearly, being barraged on all sides by different levels of pleasure and pain. It was so new for me, all this focus on sensuality. It was draining in ways I didn't expect.

For a long while the only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire and the occasional snap of wax from the candles. Remy seemed to relax completely under my touch. I could have sworn I heard him snore. But in my uncertainty, I kept kneading and smoothing out the tension of his back. My fingers stroked down his side without response. Either he was asleep or just not ticklish at that spot.

Without warning he flipped under me as I slid down his thighs, reaching his soft tight rump with my hands. Our cocks jostled together, one on top the other. For a moment I stared at our nestling flesh, mine rolling gently to the side. Then I glanced back up at Remy. His eyes were barely open, slits of glowing red that gave him a sinister look. His lips were raised in a half smirk bordering on deviousness. He'd put his hands behind his head in a lazy gesture, so different from the calculating look he gave me. It was maddening. And disconcerting. And oh so erotic. I shut my eyes tightly to break the spell he was weaving. None of that blissful warmth radiated through me. He was keeping his power in check. But the intensity of his eyes drew me in, tempting me to lose myself in the heady seduction of his being. It could have been so easy to give in to him. He was winning the war with every minute he was near me, with every command he gave me, every soft touch, every kind word, every smoldering look. I was so tired of fighting. So tired of denying the feelings within, the desire I wanted so much to ignore.

When I opened my eyes again, the glow was gone, shut away beneath his lashes. But the smile remained, only softer now, more inviting. I shifted my hips and leaned over him, thinking to massage his torso. But with an unbelievable speed Remy had my forearms trapped in his fists. Suddenly I was underneath him, my head swimming in confusion and astonishment.

He held my arms firmly on the mattress murmuring for me to hold still. There was hardly any need to say this. I was nearly paralyzed by thoughts of what was coming. He bent down to nuzzle the side of my neck, the prickly shadow of hair tickling my flesh. I almost laughed. He began nipping at my throat with his lips. Slithering down my body trailing kisses across my chest, he made his way toward my navel and further. Every touch of his mouth set my nerves on fire. I was sure that my skin would blister. Hot and then cold ran through my veins making me shiver and gasp for air, at once terrified and exhilarated.

When Remy kissed the tip of my shaft I could only let out a gurgle as it hardened and bobbed at the sensation, begging to sheath itself between his lips. But he came back up to claim my mouth instead, rubbing his body against mine in unabashed lust.

Remy's mouth locked to mine and he drove his tongue hard down into my throat sucking away the last of my ragged fearful breath. I writhed and struggled beneath him wanting to throw my arms around him and cling to him desperately, begging him to finish and begging him to stop. Emotion after emotion streamed through me: fury, lust, joy, sadness, despair, gratitude, guilt...love? The thought crept through my mind, sneaking into my consciousness and I began to fight Remy and to fight my betrayl of myself, trying to push him off, to escape that dominating kiss. It was a half-hearted struggle at best. The lust was more consuming. The desire more triumphant.

Sensing I was no longer moving beneath him in complete pleasure, Remy tore his lips away from mine. I began to pant, gulping in air with short, sharp inhalations. Tenderly, he brushed my eyes with his lips.

"Shh...hol' still, cher, hol' still." He looked into my eyes searchingly, holding my gaze. What he was looking for, I couldn't tell. Then he whispered, "Can' lie to you, Scott. Gonna hurt some." He lowered his weight onto me and turned his head, his warm breath brushing my ear as he murmured, "But when I'm t'rough wit' you, you're gonna wonder why you never done dis before. You're gonna beg me to do it again."

I shuddered violently as he lifted himself back off me. Reaching to the open drawer above my head, he pulled out a tube and sat back, spreading my legs to kneel between them. As I tried to sit up, tempted to fight him, Remy placed a warning hand on my belly, stroking his fingers lightly along the quivering ripples.

"I tol' you to hol' still." He growled. "Now you listen to your Maitre." Touching a finger to the back of my left leg, he ordered me to bend my legs up.

Without thinking, I did as he asked, my mind falling into a fog as he let just a tiny bit of his power run through me, quelling most of my will to fight, but leaving me fully aware of all that was happening. Such control he had. I couldn't help but be impressed. I looked down at him and he flashed a disarming smile, resting his hand possessively on my thigh.

Suddenly I drove my hips into the air away from him as I felt a finger prod my opening. Remy's hand tightened on my leg. "Lay down!" He snarled. Then he ran his hand up my thigh to cup my groin, his voice soft and encouraging, coaxing me back down. A cool moist finger ran along the crack of my ass gently with an easy calming stroke. Still, when it reached the entrance again, I clenched my muscles tightly, trying to keep it out.

Remy's other hand wrapped around the base of my cock, then, as he said, "Relax, mon cher. Let me in."

It was all I could do not to let him in. I exhaled long and low and he slipped inside with a smooth even caress to my prick. It burned a little going in as it met the friction of my sphincter. But the sensation cooled soon after. Remy let his finger sit there, allowing me to get use to the feeling as he lightly stroked my shaft. I was afraid to move, my breathing remained sharp and shallow, nostrils flaring slightly.

After a minute or two, Remy pushed in until he reached the last knuckle of his finger. Stroking the fleshy walls of my rectum, he sent shivers wracking up and down my spine. I trembled and groaned, my eyelids fluttering in the dim light. "Christ!" I rasped.

"S'okay. Just breat'." Came a whispered command, as his finger began to thrust in and out, slow and easy, carefully. Tears pricked my eyes as I realized he was taking me. This was it, this was all I had left and I was open to him now, vulnerable. I couldn't stop it, and as I took two long deep breaths and the sensation began to feel completely amazing, I knew I didn't want him to stop. And that tore at my heart even more. But very soon his finger began to fuck me harder as his other hand joined the rhythm and all thoughts fled my mind. I was only a physical being at that moment. I groaned in pleasure and was hardly aware when he added a second finger. Then I could feel him twisting and turning as he thrust, stretching my tight puckered opening. My body was relaxing and my hips began to rock trying to match his pace.

And then Remy was leaning over me, his tongue weaving a path up my stomach all the way to a nipple. He continued to enter me with his fingers, but his hand came away from my cock to support his weight above me as he sucked in the nub. Licking, then blowing on it drew a whimper from me and an exhaled curse, "Fuck!"

I felt a chuckle against my skin and thought I heard a "oui." Then his fingers came away and a cold rush of air blew against my ass. I opened my eyes wide, staring at the canopy above with my mouth open, my breath audible and my fingers clenching and unclenching against the sheets in a nervous jarring rhythm. Lowering my gaze I met Remy's eyes and he gave me another one of his gorgeous seductive smiles. He was on his knees between my legs leisurely fisting his cock with both hands. I caught my breath at the erotic picture he made and my erection twitched in an instinctive anticipation. His hands worked the hardening flesh, one over the other, stroking and teasing as his fingers swept off the tip to dive back down and grasp the base firmly. I could almost feel those same hands on my own swelling shaft. The reddening head of his penis glistened with the lube he'd use on his fingers as he stretched me. I could hardly breath as it hit me that he was preparing himself to penetrate me. I shut my eyes feeling my respirations quicken inspite of my efforts to slow them down.

I felt hands under my ass then. "Lift your hips, pet." Remy ordered gently. In my heightened, breathless state I raised up without hesitation and a thick sturdy pillow was placed under my rump. Then Remy stretched between my legs and I felt his cock press against my entrance, insistent.

I panicked. "No! Wait!" I gave a breathy yelp, bucking my hips against him. "Don't! Remy! I can't..."

He pulled himself further up my body and silenced my protests with a deep intoxicating kiss, bringing his slick erection back into place. Sucking my bottom lip between his teeth, he nibbled at it ardently for a long minute. Finally, he put his lips to my ear.

"Hush mon couer, mon amour. Just a little pain." He pushed in slowly meeting resistance. "Relax, cher."

"No!" I hissed, fear gripping me. Everything up until now had been like child's play. I was still my own person. But this act would change me. He was taking everything from me. I couldn't accept this. I was so afraid that I'd feel less than a man after he pierced me. I'd no longer be worthy of Jean. It was like mental castration for me. I didn't want this and I did. It was rape and yet I wasn't fighting hard enough to stop him. "No!" I said again, my voice stronger.

But again, a tiny spark of Remy's power surged through me. Just enough to open for him, not enough to lose myself, and the head of his penis slipped inside. I gasped at the searing pain that spread out across my ass. I wanted to pull away, but Remy's hands on my hips drove my shoulders into the mattress keeping me in place as he eased in further to impale me. Slow and steady, inch by burning inch he pressed inward. I bucked against him again, but my groin met the barrier of his abdomen, and I could not break away. Near to hyperventilating, fearful yet aroused, I pleaded for him to stop.

And then I felt his sack knock gently against my rear and he was all the way in, murmuring to me. "Dat's it, cher, it's in." He brushed my eyes gently with his lips, petting my hair and holding himself still inside me, letting me get use to the feeling of having him there, where he was so certain he belonged.

I could feel him throbbing in my body, gently rocking, and I knew he was using restraint. The pain was easing up and a warm tingle began crawling along my nerves. Remy whispered soft Cajun patois, gentle curses and encouragements, terms of endearments. His words were like a tender caress, soothing me and heating my veins as if warm whiskey ran through them. My mind was fogging over until the only thoughts I had were of moving to feel more of him.

"Mon Dieu, you're tighter dan your baby brot'er." I heard Remy say as I drove my hips into the pillow to pull back off his cock. He bent to suckle my neck, his teeth biting to bruise, to mark the other side, just below the collar. I exhaled and thrust back up causing him to curse against my skin. "Merde!"

Seeing I was relaxing, Remy pulled back slowly until the tip of his cock rested just inside the entrance. He kissed my mouth and went back in with one swift motion, driving his tongue deep into my throat. I groaned. "Oh God!" I rasped against the intrusion of his tongue. And when he broke away to place soft kisses along my jawline, "Master!" sprang from my lips without warning. He looked up catching my look with the warmest smile I'd ever seen him give and let go the full scope of his power.

It hit me so hard I lost my breath. I felt him enter me all the way, felt how tightly I clamped down on him in my fear and passion. It was like being two people at once with all the pain and all the ecstasy washing over me. He increased the pace, driving himself in and out with a quick fluid glide. And I began to meet him thrust for thrust, drowning in the emotions. Then Remy angled his cock inside me and my mind shattered into a thousand complicated sensations. My mouth worked incoherently. He rubbed against the gland again and again driving me between Heaven and Hell. Words finally came to me as I urged him to go in harder and deeper. Hearing this, he crushed his lips to mine with such force and eagerness I was sure he'd crack my teeth. But then he had my tongue sucked between his lips and began favoring my demands. I squirmed into a better position underneath him, lifted my legs to wrap my thighs firmly against his ribs and dug my heels into his ass to drive him in further.

But as he leaned over to drag his tongue across my nipple, my wife's name came from my lips in an unconscious rasp. Remy bit harshly into the nub when he heard this and he impaled me so hard I arched my back up digging my fingers into his arms. I felt as if he would tear the nipple from my chest, and yet it never lessened the pleasure of his assault on my ass. Instead, it only heightened my need.

"Jean's not here, homme." Remy hissed in my ear. "Jus' me, Remy Lebeau, your maitre. Fucking your ass!"

He rode me hard then, withdrawing a good portion of his charm to make me gasp and groan in some agony. But I was too close to climaxing to care, too lost in the pleasure to really feel the pain, opened wide to Remy. I took everything he gave and spurred him on to give me more. Soon, lost in the heat himself, Remy reached between our bodies, one hand placed firmly along side my chest to anchor himself above me, and grasped my cock, pulling at it almost painfully. He cursed at me, dared me to come for him and I did. Harder than I ever had before. I thought it would never end. But too soon, I was spasming violently under him in the last throes of passion, falling into the blissful afterglow.

My legs flopped onto the bed and I opened my eyes to see Remy reach his own climax, his hips slamming roughly down against my groin, his cock burying itself as far as it could go, his back arched above me on both arms planted next to either side of my chest, and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Remy's eyes were shut tight and lips parted slightly. He was murmuring, but I couldn't understand the words. Then I felt him shudder as the last of his seed drenched my insides.

And at that point he let me feel it all. Every sensation he was experiencing washed over me. So entranced by the feelings and enchanted by the way he looked, I stretched my fingers up to trace a line down his torso, whispering, "Remy...Master." It came so easily from my lips. It was so right in that moment that he owned me. And so terrifying. And so infuriating.

Remy gave a soft satisfied sigh and opened his eyes to look at me warmly. We gazed up at each other almost lovingly for a long moment and impulsively I reached up to twist a lock of his sweat-soaked hair around my finger. Turning his head quickly, he kissed the palm of my hand tenderly and lowered himself onto my body. He was weightless, comfortable, warm against me. Placing his arms under my shoulders to hold me tight, Remy rested his head on my chest. We remained that way for a long while, his cock still buried inside me. In the quiet of that hour, I wrapped my arms around him feeling something break within me. I knew this crush of my resistance would not last for long. But right then I gave up my precious control. I was no longer a leader. I was no longer in charge of my life. He had taken all that from me and while it still angered and terrified and saddened me, in those moments I'd never felt freer.

But then Remy shifted, coaxing me onto my side, pulling out of me. The connection broke. He slipped an arm underneath me and pulled me to his chest, spooning behind me, his limp prick nestled against my ass. One of his hands strayed down to my flaccid cock and he gave it an appreciative caress. Nuzzling the back of my neck he asked in a low voice, "Now do you understand, mon cher, dat I own you? Dat you're mine?"

I felt suddenly unmanned by his words. And yet they felt true. But out of fear and anger, I shook my head. "No. No one has the right to own anyone." My voice was firm when I said this and I sighed inwardly in relief at my control.

"Oh, but you're wrong, cher." Remy whispered back seductively. "And you know you're wrong. I own you. I've taken somet'in from you dat you never would have given willingly. Not de straight boy scout of the de X-men. From now on, you'll always know what I've taken from you. And you'll always know you're mine, petite."

With those words he shattered the link completely. I said nothing, to furious to talk, and Remy was content with my silence. "Been a long day, mon amour. Go to sleep." Very soon I felt his breath even, slow and deepen against my neck and knew he was asleep. Only then did I let my tears of anger and loss fall.


	21. Part XXI

When I woke next, I was still on my side, stiff and sore. My ass burned from its ravishing. Languidly, I stretched, my mind remaining muddled between waking and sleeping, and I rolled over to take the weight off my arm. When my hand brushed against Remy's cock, I came fully awake in horror. Reality hit me and I barely stopped myself from leaping off the bed and running for the door. Something warned me that the guards were very likely still posted outside.

So I raised myself carefully on one elbow and looked at Remy. He lay on his back, one arm stretched out to the side and the other hand resing gently on his abdomen. His head was turned away from me, hair in disarray all around his face. He was so peaceful in sleep, so breathtakingly beautiful. No arrogance, no knowing smirk, no shade of anger. Almost child-like and innocent.

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to take his long thin neck in my hands and squeeze until his eyes flew from his head and he took his last gasping breath. That beautiful face marred without eyes, and his tongue purple and swollen through blue lips. I smiled maliciously at that image. What he'd taken from me I could never get back. I wasn't sure if I could stand that knowledge. I wondered if I could ever return to Jean or to the X-men after what he had done, after he'd raped me. I was ashamed, and now, without his power to comfort me, furious.

My eyes wandered over his body to pause at his groin. The desire to kill him was strong, but the desire to control him, to make him experience all the pain and frustration I'd felt as his slave, was stronger. I could tear his cock off. Or at least bite down hard enough to permanently damage him. I was angry enough not to even feel repulsed by the idea.

But as I watched him, another more compelling thought crossed my mind. Remy wanted me. That was a certainty. And in his defenseless state I could use him just as he had used me. My lips curled in a smirk and I brushed my fingers purposefully along the length of his cock, my smile turning wicked when I heard him moan. I slid over closer and grasped him firmly, feeling the flesh pulsate and begin to swell, warming in my hand.

In just a few minutes I had his cock weeping in my mouth. I sucked him deep into my throat, confidence in my skill growing as his fingers wound their way through my hair. Remy was awake now, cursing at me, but his hips arched up to meet my lips, unable to help himself, caught off guard by the unanticipated pleasure. And I easily slipped a finger into him, wiggling it suggestively. I began to finger fuck him hard and fast. However, before I could place a second finger inside, he cried out and climaxed forcefully.

I swallowed his cum quickly before he could pull away. Then as he rose from the bed I looked up at him with an evil grin, licking my lips seductively. A tiny drop of semen leaked from the head of his now limp prick and I reached out to catch it with my finger. I slid the finger into my mouth and sucked it slowly. Two could play at this game of seduction. And if he wanted me so badly that he had to kidnap me from the mansion and force me into slavery, then I'd use his desire against him if I could.

Whipping around with that masculine grace that so defined him, even in anger, Remy grabbed his robe and pulled it on, tying it tightly. Then he turned back and crossed his arms to look at me. I lay on my side, my head resting on my bent elbow, a devious grin planted on my face.

For a moment he glared at me saying nothing. Then he ran a hand over his face and scratched absently at his chin. Sighing heavily, his face now bore an expression of sadness and resignation. "I wish you hadn't done dat, cher."

"Why?" I asked casually, almost sounding amused, one eyebrow cocked. "Didn't you enjoy it, Master?" The last word came out nearly like a snarl. I'd been disappointed that he'd come so quickly. I'd been very close to entering him. My cock was still half-erected. "Didn't you like my finger inside you, fucking your ass?" I added, almost surprised at myself to be goading Remy this way, as if asking for him to punish me. An arrogant part of my nature felt certain he wouldn't hurt me. He wanted me too much. Besides, I'd given him pleasure, made him cum. Wasn't that what he wanted?

I realized very quickly that I'd crossed the line this time when he began speaking to me in a low chiding, but dangerous tone. "I been patient wit' you, Scott. Let you back talk and argue wit' me too often. I've ignored your sullen looks. But you've pushed me too far dis time, homme. Even Alex knew not to initiate sex. An' never to violate my person."

Tensing a little at his tone I said, "I thought it was what you'd want." I knew this wasn't true, but I couldn't help challenging him. And his mentioning Alex irritated me. "I didn't think it mattered how or when I sucked you as long as you got off."

"You playin' a dangerous game, hein." Remy narrowed his eyes. "Gonna have to adjust dat attitude of yours. I warned you before I could 'ave you whipped. I t'ink in dis case a lashing is in order."

I started at that and backed up on the bed until I was standing on the other side facing him. "You can't be serious?" My heart was in my throat and I knew he was deadly serious.

"Oui." He replied quietly.

"You think I'm going to let you?" I growled, more angry now than fearful. It was outrageous what he was saying. I almost felt insulted.

But then my anger faltered when Remy smiled at me maliciously and said, "Got no say in de matter, sug." With that he strode to the door. Throwing it open he said something to the guards outside and I hit the floor, dizzy and nauseated, and unable to move. My collar had been activated.

The two guards followed Remy into the room. I could see them come around to lift up my limp form and drag me to the end of the bed. But I couldn't see Remy for several minutes. Then he was there behind me and I heard a dull thud on the floor.

The guard on my right lifted my arm up roughly, stretching it toward the post where Remy snapped a gold metal band lined with sheep skin around my wrist and locked it securely to a ring set high in the wood. My other arm was similarly attached to the opposite post. Then my legs were stretched and fastened to the rings near the rug. Spread eagle, my backside exposed and vulnerable, the guards stepped away and I flopped back as far as the restraints allowed.

Remy placed a gentle hand on my back. "We'll wait until you recover, mon cher." He kissed the back of my neck with a sorrowful sort of tenderness. "Dis gonna hurt. Didn' want to come to dis, but you givin' me no choice. I won' break de skin much, t'ough. Won' mar you."

He stepped away and a helpless terror gripped me. I couldn't move. And there was nothing I could do to stop him. Slowly the feeling returned to my limbs and weakly I pulled at the restraints. But they were secure. The sheep skin prevented the metal from cutting into my flesh, but it caused the skin to itch, tormenting me further. I clawed at the air, powerless. Memories assailed me. I saw the orphanage where I had been disciplined for the slightest infraction. Never tied down, but held in the firm grip of older, stronger boys as the headmaster took a paddle to my exposed rear. Sometimes in front of a few of the other orphans.

The pain was nothing compared to the humiliation and the feeling of helplessness. And no matter how hard I tried I always seemed to be breaking a rule.

The worst time ever was the day I found out Alex was being adopted. I hid in the room I shared with eight other boys, skipping lunch just to nurse my anger and sorrow. When the headmaster found me underneath my bed, wrapped in one of the thin blankets we were given, I was crying inconsolably. He dragged me down to the lunchroom yelling at me for missing lunch and accusing me of being an ungrateful whelp. Four boys held me over a chair as he tore off my pants and proceeded to paddle me in front of the entire orphanage.

And Alex was there watching it all with tears in his eyes, helpless and miserable. That was the most shameful part: to see my brother's misery and to know I was the cause. If I'd been stronger. If I could have hid my emotions he never would have had to witness my punishment. In the little time we'd been there, he'd never had to watch me being punished. And now he knew how weak I was, how stupid.

After the headmaster had finished, when the boys holding me down let my body drop like a broken doll to the floor, no longer able to cry, my brother ran to me and I pushed him away. I told him to leave me alone. I snarled at Alex telling him to go to his new family. I told him I didn't need him anyway, and I was glad I wouldn't have to look after him anymore. The look on his face was heartbreaking. But I couldn't stop from lashing out. I wanted to blame him for leaving though he had little say in the matter. I wanted to hate him so I wouldn't feel this overwhelming sense of loss and pain. And my cruel words sent him fleeing. He avoided me after that. And in my anger, trying to drive away the pain, I didn't look for him. I only saw him the day he left with his new family. The headmaster insisted that I say goodbye. I did, but sullenly. And when Alex waved from the backseat of the car as it drove away, I turned my back on him.

It took years to repair the damage. It took Professor Xavier to help me understand my rage and my actions. And he helped me reconcile with Alex. He took me to see my brother often.

And it took Jean to draw me out from behind the emotionless wall I'd built that day.

People have often accused me of being aloof, uptight, and almost devoid of human emotions. Some just said I was shy. Those people would have understood had they ever been dragged in front of a room full of cruel jeering boys, stripped below the waist and paddled severely as their own brother watched helplessly. As I've said, it took years to bring down those walls I'd so carefully constructed to keep the hurt and shame from bubbling up to the surface. I swore I'd never cry for anyone or anything ever again.

And now Remy was stripping away all the years of love and meaning and acceptance that had torn down those barriers. I would build those walls again. Because I wouldn't be that frightened, helpless little boy again.

As soon as my head straightened, able to do more than loll uselessly against my chest, Remy came up behind me. A piece of black silk cloth was placed in front of my face to cover my eyes. I was thrown into darkness.

"Don't do this." I choked out.

"I'm sorry, mon petite." Remy murmured against my ear.

"No you're not!" I accused, gritting my teeth. "You're enjoying this. You were always jealous of me. Of my life with Jean. Jealous of how the X-men respect and trust me. It's something you'll never have. They'll never trust you. And I'm just here because of your misplaced anger. You just want to justify your own perversion."

Remy wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. "You're wrong, mon amour. So very wrong." I was shocked by the complete lack of anger in his tone. I hadn't even irritated him with my accusations. What I said hadn't mattered. "M'life wit' de X-men is behind me. I don' care what dey t'ink. And as for perversion..." he let his empathy wash over me, drawing a sigh of bliss from my lips. Remy let me feel all his desire for me, his love. I was astonished. It bordered on obsession, but it was still love. And I couldn't find fault with his feelings or see it as perverse. Because it mirrored the love I felt for Jean. "Does dat feel perverted?" He asked softly.

"No." I agreed breathlessly.

Remy stepped back and withdrew the sensations. I strained forward against my shackles, my muscles, now fully awake, became so tense I thought my bones might snap under the pressure. I began to whisper into the air, "don't do this, don't do this, don't do this..."

But the first crack came regardless of my plea, whipping down along side my spine and over the shoulder blade to curl with a snap against my clavicle. My fingers splayed out in the restraints as my breath exploded from my chest and I had mere seconds to draw another before the second snap of the lash hit my other side. I had little breath to speak or even groan as each lash bore down at different times. There was no rhythm. Remy would pause for several moments and then attack my back with a series of thunderous blows. He was holding nothing back. My head roared and all I could hear was the swoosh of the leather a few seconds before it landed on my skin. The only time I could pace it and prepare.

And Remy said nothing. No curses, no harsh words to goad me or mock me, no kind words to sooth. He talked only with the whip.

At first I tensed, throwing my body forward as far as I could. And the pain was sharp and stinging, evaporating quickly. But as the blows came again and again and again the pain became my constant companion, my back scorched as I was hit over a previous spot along my spine or on my buttocks and thighs.

Soon I couldn't even make my body move forward. My arms became slack in the restraints, the wrists itching even more as sweat poured off them. My body became drenched and slick with sweat. But the bindings held.

As my limbs went slack and my head fell back, Remy stepped up to me and traced a cool soothing hand across one of the welts. "Dat's it, Scott. Let go. Give yourself over to me and I'll take care of you." His warm breath in my ear broke through the roar of my brain. "Obey me, cher, and you'll know pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Give up. Don' fight me anymore."

I wanted to. I wanted so badly to give in just to stop the lashing. But stubbornly, hardly even realizing what I was doing, I shook my head weakly, denying him.

The whip fell again. But this time a wave of compassion flooded through me. And a very soft whimper left my lips. Remy wasn't angry. Far from it. He was sympathetic. He understood my need to fight and identified with it. And he admired me for it. He adored my strength and my will and my passion. All he wanted was for me to feel the same for him.

So in the correcting he let me feel how sorry he was for having to punish me. It was bliss and pain melded into one. I could no longer tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began. And I could no longer resist. Tears began to flow and my head was full of regret for having caused him to do this. The words "I'm sorry" circled around and around in my head for an eternity before they finally landed on my tongue and I found my voice.

"I'm sorry, Master." I croaked. I heard the leather strap hit the rug with a dull crash and Remy's hands reached around to grasp my half-erect cock stroking it into full hardness. He murmured endearments as he placed kiss after kiss against my shoulder, making sure not touch the welts that were there. Then he drove his shaft deep into my seared ass causing us both to gasp. He held it there as if to torment me until I couldn't stand his stillness and moved my hips to fuck him. I think he was testing me in some way. We began a furious pace until he climaxed, falling against my bruised back. The pain drew a cry from me but it also spurred on my orgasm. Remy's name rolled off my lips with a husky rasp over and over.

Thanfully he pulled away soon after I came. The cool air blew against my back easing the pain for a moment. Every nerve was sparking in me and I became nothing but sensations, no thoughts. I could feel hands at my ankles releasing the shackles. But I couldn't move my legs. Then someone, I couldn't remember who at that moment, was in front of me on the bed, releasing my wrists and dragging my body down onto the mattress.

There was a shout and shortly after words I couldn't comprehend were spoken above me. Then murmurs in my ear, soft caresses to my arms. My tear-streaked face pressed into smooth flesh. And finally blessed darkness came.

I woke once shrieking and struggling against hands that rubbed my back roughly and arms that held me firmly. My skin was raw and sore and a cooling gel was being worked into the muscles. But it stung unmercifully. A hand stoked my head trying to sooth my shrieks as they faded into sobs. "Please stop." I tried to say, but it was only a gurgle from my lips. The voices raised above me in anger wouldn't have heard my pleas anyway.

"Damn it, Remy! You broke the skin!" That voice was vaguely familiar and oddly comforting. Blindly I waved my hand seeking the comfort of the speaker. His hand grasped mine tightly and he bent to speak into my ear. "It's alright son. It's Dr. Sampson. I'm just dressing your wounds. You'll be okay."

I heard Remy curse. "It's not dat bad. He's strong. He can handle it." Yet his hands were gentle in their grip has he held me.

"I don't give a damn if he can handle it! You shouldn't have done it to begin with!" Came the sharp retort.

"How I discipline m'slaves is my business, hein. You just tend to deir wounds." There was a short pause. "Don't question me, homme, or you'll be looking for anot'er job."

I heard a snort and a slightly amused reply. "You wouldn't get rid of me. I'm the best physician in this country. And besides...you enjoy having someone who'll argue with you. You need it." Dr Sampson's voice grew softer. "Remy, there are alot of men who disapprove of your keeping Alpha Mutants in your stable. And they'd be outraged if they knew you've abused one like this."

"You t'ink I don' know dat?" Remy snapped. "I'll deal wit' it when it becomes a problem. Right now dey can disapprove all dey want. I won' give up dese brot'ers!"

Dr Sampson sighed. "Fine. But I'm warning you, the men that don't approve aren't your real problem. It's the ones that want an Alpha Mutant for their own stables. People like Escalada who want to breed them. Sooner or later an earther is going to notice the disappearances and one just might find a way to get over here. Alpha Mutants of Earth might come to claim their own. Do you think you or your army can stop them?"

"I'll take care of it!" Remy said impatiently. "Now finish your work and get out!"

There was silence then and the doctor's hands came down to finish spreading the gel across my back. I felt a sharp prick on my arm. Then there was a pressure and a burn as something was injected into the muscle.

"He'll be asleep in a few minutes. Let him rest until morning. I'll leave some gel for you to apply when he wakes up. But the worst of it should be healed by then. The gel will keep the lacerations from becoming infected or scarring." The tone was neutral, trying to mask disappointment. But it fell short. Still, Remy said nothing. I heard footsteps, then the click of the door and I was alone with Remy once again. The pain in my back and buttocks was easing. However I continued to cry silently against his chest.

"Are you sorry, mon cher?" Remy asked with a tenderness that made me weep harder.

"Yes." I managed to choke out.

"You'll behave now? You won' make me do dis to your brot'er?" A threat wrapped in a tender tone and I flinched.

"No Master. I won't."

"Bien." Remy was satisfied with my answers and placed a light kiss on my forehead whispering, "sleep, cher. You're mine and now you know it."

I nodded once and raised a hand to wipe the tears from my eyes, my hand pulling away sweat and tear-soaked. Lethargy was coming on me quickly and soon I floated back into unconsiousness.

 


End file.
